


Little by Little

by Latnii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Out, Exorcisms, Fallen Castiel, Hand Job, Homophobia, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Possession, Post-sex fluff, Romance, Supportive Sam Winchester, Tattoos, Torture, Violence, fallen!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latnii/pseuds/Latnii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is meant to champion with an Angel at his side.<br/>Castiel wasn't exactly doing his job as said angel.<br/>Heaven, as usual, takes drastic measures anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Ok, quick thought here, this is my first actually published fanfic, so it may have a few errors. I would like to thank the lovely RingoSohma and Cookies-575 over on tumblr. These ladies have made this process one of the best I've had. And hopefully they'll kick my ass in gear to finish this one and start more! They also served as my betas, so any mistakes left are my own.  
> This will be done in three parts, so stick around for the rest.  
> ~Latnii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Just a quick warning, this may eventually upgrade to M? Not too sure yet.  
> Also, updates will try to be steady, but I'm working on moving and end of the year school stuff. You know how it is. :)  
> Again, I'd love to thank my beautiful betas, Ringosohma and Cookies-575!

The decent to humanity had been an abrupt and painful process. 

It had taken merely seconds for his angelic grace to be ripped from him, leaving his spirit bound to the vessel that had once housed the, now dead, Jimmy Novak. 

The fall had taken moments, shaking the west coast with an earthquake when he touched down. 

It was the 'becoming mortal' part that had taken a while.

\--

Castiel managed to contact Dean the moment he got his bearings via a pay phone and a kind woman who had given him a few coins. His mind had been racing through so many things; what he would do now, where he would live, would be hunted by angels and demons alike? But when the rough voice came over the crackling line, Castiel felt himself heave a sigh and relax. 

"Dean," he murmured to the phone, his tone conveying the sorrow, worry, and relief he was feeling all at once. "I...need a ride."

\--

It took the Winchesters over four hours to drive to where Castiel was. 

In the mean time, the ex-angel had sat quietly in a 24-hour diner, staring at a cup of coffee the waitress had brought him but he had yet to drink. He opted instead to use it as a focal point for his thoughts, only breaking his stare when the front door chimed and Dean walked in with Sam close at his heels. 

Dean's face was one of worry, the deep creases in his face furrowed. It was one of the expressions Castiel had learned to recognize among the many others that the hunter wore. Yet, the look he wore now had something tugging at the edges. Relief, perhaps? He could only speculate as Sam smiled solemnly down at him before the two brothers slid into the booth opposite him. 

They spent a few awkward moments staring in different directions before Sam cleared his throat. "So," he started, audibly catching on the syllable. Dean and Castiel looked up a him, both with a blank expression. "Cas, I think it's safe to say your human now?" 

The angel- ex-angel -paused for a moment, staring once again down at the cup of coffee. "Yes," he said, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat before trying again. "Yes, I am…human." 

The two brothers turned to each other, sharing a string of looks that kept Castiel out of their silent conversation. Finally, Dean turned back to him, his mouth pursed into a line. "So, how can you remember anything? Didn't Anna go all…" he motioned with his hands towards his temple in a circular motion.

Castiel cocked his head at the display, unsure of what the man meant. Dean audibly sighed, rolling his eyes before clarifying, "crazy, Cas. Crazy with a bad case of amnesia." Another cock of the head met Dean's reply, but Castiel slowly pieced together an answer, his mind no longer working on an interdemensional, spiritual wavelength, after all.

"I suspect it has something to do with the fact that Anna cherished her rebellion and power most. As such, it was only right that she lost those aspects of herself." It was Castiel's working theory, anyway. If he were to be truthful, he himself was wondering why exactly he could remember everything. His fall from grace was not slow, nor was it a painless process. He shouldn't remember anything at all. Yet, he could recall everything from the first time he watched the sun rise over the newly formed Earth to how many sugars Dean preferred in his coffee. But the last few weeks were more of a blur, adding to the mystery of it all. 

"Ok, well, that's one guess," Dean started, settling back in the booth. "But how exactly did you come to fall? Last time we saw you, you were all, angel mojo all over the place!" As emphasis, Dean waved his hands about the air before turning to Sam for some confirmation, earning a nod, then looking back to Castiel. 

He opened his mouth to speak about the experience, perhaps even to shed some light, but suddenly found his memory blank. He paused, bringing his hands up to touch to coffee mug. The porcelain was cold against his fingers, a testament to exactly how much time he had spent sitting there. He screwed his face up into an expression of concentration as he searched for words.

The Winchesters turned to each other, unsure of how to approach the situation. They had spoken at length about the topic during the drive there, trying to find the best ways to possibly console Cas or theories about what had happened. But the current situation wasn't covered by any words spoken over the roar of an engine. 

Dean cleared his throat, causing Castiel to jump slightly. The ex-angel peered up before taking a deep breath. "I don't remember, exactly," he replied in a hushed tone. Another confused glance was shared across the table before Castiel yawned loudly. There was a sudden drowsiness that Cas had felt coming on, but hadn't quite made itself obvious until then. It made the angel frown at the humanity of the action.

A small chuckled caused Castiel to look up, catching Dean with a smirk on his face. Both Sam and Cas shot him a look, causing Dean to laugh even more. "What? It was funny."

With that, the three set off, Castiel piled in the back of the Impala with the two brothers in the front. As they drove, beams of sunlight began to shine above the trees, signaling the approach of dawn. 

It would be a long drive to Bobby's. 

\--

Castiel had somehow managed to fall asleep, his face pressed against the cool glass of the window. He awoke with a jacket thrown haphazardly over the top of him and the soft hum of rock music drifting through the car. Dean sat at the wheel, softly singing along (sans his jacket, Cas noted) with Sam next to him staring out his window. 

Shifting from under the warmth of the jacket, Castiel managed to sit up, noticing the rather rural road they were driving down. He blinked, bleary eyed and somehow still exhausted before Dean took notice of him in the review mirror. 

"Well, morning there sleepy head. Just in time, we're almost to Bobby's," Dean said, his mouth turned up in a smile. Sam turned as well, smiling back at Cas mournfully. He seemed to be the only one truly taking the levity of the situation seriously. 

A blank expression from Castiel met both hunters as they pulled into the salvage yard, the image of Bobby Singer already there amongst the rusting cars. Both Sam and Dean climbed out of the car to greet him, Cas climbing out after them. 

Bobby met them with a sour look, quick to say something. "You idjits know I 'ought to have botha 'your heads mounted on my wall. Two months with not a peep and now you come runnin' just cause Dean's angel's got a problem?" 

Despite his words, he scooped both boys into a hug, clapping them on the back. "I at least deserve a call once an' a while." The two men mumbled their apologies, smiles plastered on their faces. It was only when Castiel managed to wandered towards the group that several of their expressions fell. 

"So, I hear you're pretty much normal now," Bobby stated, taking in the image of Castiel. He was no different that usual, same outfit as always if not a little more wrinkled and his dark brown hair jutting in all directions from his impromptu nap. 

"So I've been told," Cas replied, his voice sullen. Bobby took him in one more time before sighing and glancing at the two boys. "Well, we best get you inside and figure out what's going on." 

They walked into the house, the three hunters talking at length about Cas' condition and memory loss. Everyone had their own theory, but Castiel remained silent unless asked a direct question. In a short time, they were all settled in Bobby's living room with their noses in books, trying to figure something out when it came to Angel Amnesia. The ex-angel in question, however, remained bookless and had instead opted to curl himself up on Bobby's couch, watching them work. It was his own way of trying to reclaim his memories of the past few weeks in heaven, his mind reeling every time he tried.

It was roughly mid-afternoon, everyone's head still in a book or thinking when a loud grumble came from Castiel's midsection. They all looked up at Castiel, a slight blush on the man's face. "I…I have no idea what that was."

Dean laughed loudly, creating an effect in both Bobby and Sam as the two smiled slightly. "Me too, big guy. I'll go make us some lunch." True to his word, Dean wandered into the kitchen, sending noises of the fridge opening and pan frying that filled the once quiet house. 

Soon, a strong, decadent aroma filled the air causing all three men's stomachs to rumble loudly. Sam was the first to rise, walking into the kitchen without a word. A muffled conversation and laughter floated in after the smell of sizzling meat. 

Eventually, Bobby followed as well, leaving Castiel alone in the living room. 

A loud grumble came from his stomach again as Castiel stared begrudgingly down at it. He couldn't even perform simple tasks without his body's needs imposing themselves on him. He continued to stare at his now functioning body with disdain when Dean poked his head in, a slight smirk on his face. 

"Sounds like you're up for cheeseburgers," Dean said as he moved to lean on the door frame. "Or are you gonna sit in here an sulk for a while?" 

Castiel raised his head, hopeful at the promise of greasy beef topped in cheese. "I, uh, I will join you for cheeseburgers," Castiel responded, uncurling himself from his seat on the couch. He stumbled after Dean into the kitchen where Sam was sitting at the kitchen table and Bobby leaned against a counter. Both men held a burger in their grasp, already half way through. 

"These are amazing, Dean. You'd make a good house wife," Sam quipped, placing his burger down long enough to get a swig of beer. Bobby chuckled while Dean simply smirked. "I pride myself on my better qualities, Samantha."

It was a regular scene between the three of them, such teasing. That was, of course, when they weren't hunting down some kind of monstrosity or saving the world. Still, Castiel couldn't help but feel out of place among such lightheartedness. He was, as far as he knew, a disagree to heaven. He didn't deserve to be among such a happy scene. 

The plate that Dean shoved towards Castiel pulled him out of his trance as he tried to focus on the sight in front of him. "Here, eat," the hunter commanded as Cas took the plate. A hand at the small of his back pulled him towards the kitchen table before taking a seat across from Sam. 

Eating wasn't a foreign activity. In fact, eating was something he enjoyed immensely. He could understand why it was considered a sin to love it so. Yet, despite a growling stomach and his favorite food before him, he couldn't find the will to eat. All three hunters stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to do something, but he sat staring at it instead. 

Glances were exchanged between the three before Dean spoke. "It's gonna get cold, Cas." The words broke Castiel's concentration as he glanced up at Dean whom gave him an encouraging look. Cas turned back to the burger, lifting it up as grease dripped over his fingers. 

He took one final look at Dean's hopeful expression before turning back to the sandwich and taking a bite. The flavor was better than any diner burger he'd ever had, and he'd had quite a few. He let out a small noise which brought a chuckle from Dean. "That good?" he asked, his lopsided grin making an appearance. 

"Told you. Housewife," Sam said, pulling another chuckle out of Bobby. Castiel allowed himself to smile a little, just pleased that he could actually be part of such a happy moment. 

\--

Three days later, the group wasn't any closer to finding out an answer to Castiel's situation than they were the first day. Though, Dean hadn't contributed much as he'd spent most of the time hovering over Cas. He'd taught Castiel the joys of a hot shower as well as a full-hearted attempt to teach the ex-angel how to shoot a gun which had ended with a bullet hole in the ground a few inches from Dean's foot. 

"Why don't we just call Balthazar or Gabriel or some other kook angel who'll actually talk to us?" Sam had asked one evening, tossing yet another book into the growing pile of flops on the floor. "Because," Castiel replied, flipping through a book of his own on his usual spot on the couch. "My brothers would most likely end me. I'm in exile and most likely not in good graces with them."

"They wouldn't gank you though, would they? I mean, come on, you're family!" Dean replied, nudging Cas lightly. He had tasked himself with perching close to Castiel, especially on the couch. Cas merely shakes his head. "I doubt they'd be so understanding," he said sadly.

"Aw, Cassie, you wound me."

All heads in the room swiveled towards the entryway where a golden haired man stood, hand in his pockets and a devious grin lighting his features. 

"Gabriel," Castiel whispered, surprise soaked into his tone. He felt Dean tense up next to him, shifting to an almost protective position as the archangel strode into the room. "Surprise!" Gabriel replies, pulling his hands out of his pockets to make a grand sweeping gesture. 

There was a heavy silence in the room to accompany the tension that all four humans held in their posture. "What?" Gabriel asked, his hands returning to his sides. "You think I'm going to smite you or something? Geez, Cas, that's pretty lo-"

"What do you want then?" Dean cut in, moving even further in front of Castiel, practically sitting in his lap. It made Castiel's chest tighten up slightly, a recent event that seemed to happen around Dean. In this moment especially, was Castiel awe struck by Dean's actions for him. 

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Dean-o. I'm here on official messenger business. Heaven's got me by the balls again." Gabriel took a few strides towards the couch, coming to stand in the middle of the open space. "Hey, look at you playing you're role already, Dean. Though, I think you're displaying more rabid dog than protective boyfriend."

Dean's resolve stayed as he hovered above Castiel, though Sam and Bobby exchanged worried looks over Gabriel's words. "What do you mean, Gabriel?" Castiel asked, staring at his brother dead on, the confusion evident on his face. 

Gabriel sighed before speaking again. "Look here kiddo, I've got orders from way on high up to tell you and Thing One here that you have a job." Dean's glare continued while Castiel's eyebrows knitted themselves together in confusion. "Gabriel, I am no longer part of the Host, what could they possible want from me?" 

The grin on the archangel's face just spread even wider, one eyebrow quirked high up on his forehead. "Castiel," he chided, tilting his head. "I thought for sure you would've been able to remember. I told Dredriel you'd remember, but no, you're rebellious as ever." Another exasperated look was the only answer before Gabriel laughed. 

"Really? Come on. You four goobs have been sitting around for three whole days trying to find some kind of sign of his grace, or someway to restore it. Hey, grandpa!" Gabriel turned to Bobby who just glared at him, muttering to himself. "You've been the news surfer, any big explosions in the area where Cas fell?"

Bobby begrudgingly shifted in his chair. "No. Not even a damn noise disturbance. And I ain't no 'grandpa,'" Bobby said begrudgingly.

Gabriel merely ignored the correction and continued. "That," he said, "is because Cassie here didn't actually fall." 

All heads snapped back to the golden-haired angel, various expressions of surprise or wonder on their faces. Gabriel just grinned knowingly, practically gushing at the knowledge he had. Dean quickly spoke up, shaking his head a bit. "Wait, whoa, hold the phone. What do you mean he didn't fall? He's got no mojo!" 

"No, he doesn't. That's because we have it." 

The silence was almost deafening as everyone stared at Gabriel, the same confused expressions they wore previously. Castiel was the first to speak, somehow irrecably calm, but Dean could recognize the slight waver in his voice. "Gabriel, I have no memory of my last time in Heaven. I need you to explain everything in detail." 

The archangel paused, considering his brother's words. "I guess you wouldn't. That seems to be a pattern in graceless angels." He paused, almost thoughtfully so before exclaiming, "Alright!" Everyone in the room jumped, but Gabriel pays them no mind as he continues. "Message time then. Castiel, you have a destiny to fulfill as planned by our father." Dean feels the man grow rigid next to him as he asks another question. "Has our Father returned?"

Gabriel frowned at that, a flicker of anguish lighting his features. "No," he responds. "But, he did leave me a sort of instruction list. You happen to be item number 784." Gabriel began to pace slightly as he spoke, almost maniacally. "No, you have a large role to play. All four of you actually, but that part comes later. For now, you two need to move along that 'profound bond' of yours," he says, air quoting Castiel's claim on Dean. 

"What about my grace, Gabriel," Castiel asked, his tone growing impatient. Dean gave the man a harrowing look, trying to convey some element of sympathy, but he wasn't paying attention. Cas' attention was firmly set on his brother who shifted offhandedly at the scrutiny. 

"You can't wait for anything, can you? Ok, fine. Heaven has it. In order for you to finish daddy-dearest's instructions, you and Dean-o here have to shack up." More silence met that declaration until Sam started laughing. Dean whipped his head around to snap at his brother to "shut up," then back to Gabriel. "The hell you mean we have to 'shack up'?" Castiel could see the rage bubbling up out of Dean as he stood to face the angel. 

"You think me and him are some sort of boyfriends? Because if so, you can tell God to shove it up his ass." Gabriel snorted right in the man's face, despite the height Dean suddenly used to loom over the angel. "Sorry Dean-o. Castiel's your exception, all of Heaven and Hell knows that." 

Another snort came from Sam's direction as both he and Bobby tried to hide some kind of laughter. "The hell you laughing at?" Dean growled, glaring at both of them. "You can throw Earth into that mix," Sam added. Dean let out a small noise of protest, but Gabriel side stepped him. He had bigger fish to fry. 

"Castiel," he started, his voice somehow taking on an air of importance, but he already had the ex-angel's utmost attention. "As it shall be written, the Winchester family is to become the saviors of this Earth. You are to champion at Dean Winchester's side. Heaven has taken your grace as the price for avoiding your fate."

"Your terms are as follows; live at Dean Winchester's side and your grace shall be restored. If you fail, you live and die on Earth as a man. Do you understand?" Castiel stared back at him, his face steely as he said, "yes." 

Gabriel remained still for a moment, his body bent slightly with his face in it's unusually serious expression before standing up straight and smiling. "Good. Ah, and, for motivation!" Gabriel suddenly reached towards him with two fingers extended. 

Cas leaned back slightly, wary of his brother. Dean took a step towards them, but was stopped as Gabriel made contact with Cas' forehead. A flash of bright, white light filled the room, causing the occupants of the room to shut their eyes tightly. When everyone looked back up, Gabriel was gone, leaving a bewildered Cas sitting on the couch. 

"The hell was that?" Dean asked, rushing to the Castiel, checking him over for any injuries. Cas stared at him, inhaling him deeply. "He's given me back a piece of my grace. It's a, ah," he pauses to take another deep breath. "It's incentive." 

"For what, exactly?" Sam asked, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in the plush chair. Bobby remained tight lipped, a little annoyed at all the supernatural creatures that felt it appropriate to pop in and out of his house. 

"To be Dean's lover."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas are walking on eggshells around each other, neither willing to speak first. But an investigation on a nest of dead vampires and suspicious sulfur calls for them to work together, if only for a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Whew, this got put up quickly. As always, RingoSohma and Cookies-575 were my wonderful Betas. Any mistakes left are my own.

Sleep was a notion that Castiel wasn't quite sure if he liked or hated. 

On one hand, the rest was good, the dreams sometimes very interesting and vivid. Yet, falling asleep felt exactly like that; falling. 

The descent into sleep always started slow but moved onto an abrupt fall. If inexperienced, it was rather unpleasant, much like the night he lost his grace. Castiel, of course, had to discover this on his own. It left him reeling at night, fighting the unpleasantness of being drowsy despite knowing that sleep contains the reprieve he seeks. 

This particular night was no different. Not to mention the added stress of Gabriel's message and Dean's reaction looming over him. It was a mess, that much was true. What made it worse was the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he remembered the look on Dean's face. No mater what he tried, it was a persistent sensation, one he wished would just leave him to his falling and sleeping. 

Yet, despite the weight in his eyes, they didn't close. As much as he willed his body into the emptiness of sleep, the darkness never came. Instead, it left him exhausted and bleary eyed, his mind reeling with Dean's words. 

Castiel was honestly fine with being Dean's partner. It was something that always lingered in the back of his mind, ever since he truly began to know him. His body was an area of Cas' expertise. He had spent a large amount of time meticulously sewing back sinews, setting solid bone, knitting calloused skin. Each and every cell he had memorized so fully as he worked. No, his body he knew. 

It was Dean's mind that seemed so far from his grasp. He had thought them close friends. Dean supported him just as he supported Dean. They had shared countless hours together, from the booth of diners to the seats of the impala, sharing quiet words to the cool air.

But, when confronted with what Castiel had suspected they already were, Dean rejected the notion, violently so. It didn't change how Castiel felt, but it did change Dean in his mind. The hunter was no longer someone he could openly approach. He would have to tread as lightly as he could, even going as far to lave no trace he was there. 

Castiel rose out of bed, shivering at the cool air that met his previously warm body. The clock on his bedside table read 2:07am as he padded into the hall, more than sure that no one would be awake to disturb his trip to the kitchen for a glass of water. 

He paused when he got halfway downtime stairs, a glow of light from the kitchen lighted his way as someone clicked glass together. Many options ran through his head as to who could be in the kitchen so late. If it was Sam or Bobby, he supposed he would be ok to simply walk in, get his water, and retreat back to his room. However, if it was Dean…

The other option was just to turn around and go back to his room, but his mouth was dry to the point of pain. Castiel took a shaky breath before continuing down the stairs. 

As he rounded the corner, Castiel spotted Dean sitting at the table, a menagerie of glass bottles and liquor before him. Cas frowned deeply and made a move to leave, but he was already spotted. 

"Cas," Dean says, the name slurred on his tongue. Castiel pauses and turns back around to face the kitchen. Dean's face didn't quite hold the anger from earlier that night, but there was still the ghost of it on his face. "You know," he begins, looking down at the glass in his hands. "You haven't really given your opinion to this whole mess." 

Castiel stood as still as he could, wide eyed in the face of scrutiny. He really didn't have much of an opinion at all. As far as he was concerned, if he could stay by Dean's side, he was satisfied. Dean, however, wasn't quite pleased with the man's silence. 

"You really can't be fine with all of this? Heaven forcing their shit down your throat." The legs of the chair scraped unappealingly against the floor, causing Cas to flinch at the obtrusive noise. He looked up from the floor to see Dean looming above the table. His movements were shifty at best as he steadied himself on chair. 

"Why don't you say something? You can't possibly want this! You're human and you finally get your fucking free will and now they order you to do more. What kind of fucked up system is that?" Dean was fuming at that point, the ghost of emotion now full on rage. Castiel could help but flinch lightly at it.

Though, the point was obvious. Castiel was granted free will now. Yet, he could feel the small flare of his grace, just a fraction of its true size but still reminding him what he had lost. It was like a small beacon of loss amongst his new found humanity and it absolutely terrified him. 

"It is not a system," Castiel murmurs. "It is God's will." 

"God's will my ass!" Dean began to walk towards him, shoving pasted the chair. A sudden shattering noise caught both of their attention. The glass that had been half filled with whiskey had fallen, sending liquor and glass across the floor. 

Dean cursed loudly, stooping down to clean it up. He angrily gathered shards of glass into his palm before letting out another loud curse and looking down at his hand. Castiel unglued himself from the floor where he stood, quickly moving to where Dean kneeled. There, amongst the pink of flesh was a line of bright red blood slowly oozing from the wound. 

Castiel frowned as he reached for a paper towel on the counter, bending down as well to help. Dean shouted another obscenity, glaring up at Castiel. "I don't need your fucking help," he said pointedly. Cas merely sighed, reaching down again with one hand pressed to the hunter's back. 

The movement from Dean came abruptly, knocking Castiel off balance. He hit the floor with a grunt, his eyes once again wide as Dean glared down at him. For a moment, there's a flash if uncertainty on his face, as if he wished to help Castiel, but he instead returns to an angry glare. 

"Fuck you and your will."

With that, Dean gets up, leaving a little spot of blood on the floor where he had been. He gives one last spiteful look at Castiel, then turns and leaves, stomping up the stairs. The slam of his door reverberated through the house, pulling a choked noise from Castiel as he sat amongst the remnants of whiskey and glass. 

\--

Dean heard the footsteps approaching him, the crunch of gravel like a warning bell as he worked on his car. It was a rather warm day as far as fall in Sioux went, especially as he used every ounce of strength he has to fit in new parts to the underside of his car's engine. 

"What do you want?" He called, trying to be casual in his greeting, knowing it would shy away the right person if he wanted. 

"I want ya to get your ass out of that car and come inside. I got a job for you over in Ohio. Seems like someone sussed out a nest of vamps, but it ain't one of our guys. Jo said she could smell sulfur." Dean silently cheered that it was Bobby who was barking at him. Sam had already approached him about Castiel and the ex-angel himself hadn't bothered to come out of the house at all. Honestly, he didn't want to talk about it and he damn well wasn't about to start now.

"Yeah, give me a," Dean pauses, grunts as he twists a piece into place, "second. There." He rolled himself out from under the car, reaching for a rag he had placed on the hood to wipe traced of oil off his hands. The undershirt he was wearing was splotched with it as well, subsequently ruining the shirt. 

"Yeah, let me just clean up and Sammy and I can hit the road," Dean said, picking up his tools to put away. 

"Sam's running an errand for me over at the university. I need a favor from a professor over there. You and Cas are headin' out," Bobby told him, rather offhandedly. 

"No," was the abrupt answer from Dean. He slammed the tool box shut before turning back to Bobby. 

"Listen here boy, I don't care what the hell is going on between you two, but it's not like Castiel could drive, and you're gonna need back up. There are demons out the wazoo over there and I don't need be coming and saving your ass!" With that, Bobby turned and made his way back to the house, a grumbling Dean trailing after him.

When Dean managed to walk into the house, both Sam and Cas' gazes met him. Sam's more judgmental and Cas' rather blank. Cas was dressed in one of Sam's button down and Bobby's jeans, neither of which was actually well fitting. 

He watched the two of them for a minute, the sighed. "Come on, Cas. You're no use to me if you're tripping all over your clothes." Dean made a gesture that beckoned Cas towards his room. The man was spry, but Dean might have something that would fit him better than Sam or Bobby's clothing. 

And damn it all if Sam didn't stop giving him a fucking grin. 

Castiel paused, sitting at the table with wide eyes until Dean motioned again. He adverted his eyes, pushing out from the table and following after the hunter towards his room. 

By the time he got there, Dean was already digging through his clothes, trying to find something to give the ex-angel to wear. Finally, he tossed a pair of jeans and a button up at Castiel. "Put those on. There's a belt in the closet if those pants are still too big," he commanded, pulling his own shirt off as he dug for clothes for himself. 

Castiel's eyes didn't pull away from Dean at first, watching the muscles ripple over his back as he dug. It was fascinating to watch first hand, especially considering he'd never seen Dean naked while he was in a vessel, but he could remember the feel of the body he'd restored beneath his celestial form. 

He turned away as Dean turned around, placing the clothes on the bed before pulling his shirt off. Dean stared at him for a moment before saying, "Dude, you're not going to…" The words died in his mouth as the sight of Cas' naked torso greeted him.

Cas wasn't exactly muscular, but he was toned but still a little scrawny. His skin was pale, a light contrast to Dean's own tanned complexion. Castiel was unblemished and intact, another difference from his own scar marred flesh. 

As quickly as Cas had his shirt off, he had the other one on, a much better fit compared to Sam's. Dean had to smile appreciatively that he could supply Cas' needs where others failed. He turned back to his own clothes and both men quickly finished dressing.

When Dean was dressed, he turned to see Castiel pulling a belt through his jeans. "How do they fit?" He asked, moving towards Cas. 

"Well," he replies, holding his arms out to the side slightly, as if showing Dean. 

The hunter hummed lightly. "A little loose, but they'll do for now. I still wanna get some clothes for you, though. I only have so many pairs of jeans," he replied before walking back down the stairs. 

Castiel followed Dean outside to the impala, climbing into the passenger seat while Dean took the driver's. "So, I uh, don't know if Bobby told you, but we're going after some demons," Dean offered as he started the engine and drove out of salvage yard.

"He did," Castiel replied, glancing down to his hands. It was going to be a difficult journey after last night and the little amount of sleep he had managed to catch. 

"Well, that's uh, that's good." Dean gave him a minute nod. He waited for Castiel to say something else, but silence only met him. He nodded again curtly, unwilling to say the words he wanted to so badly wanted to admit.

He wanted to tell Castiel he was sorry. Sorry he had yelled, sorry he had pushed him, sorry for everything. Yet, as he turned to him, Dean found all the words drying up in his throat. 

So, he sighed, turned on the radio, and he drove.

\--

They arrived to the motel late that night, no time left in the day for investigating. Dean was more than exhausted, but the thought of being in the same room with Castiel was a little unsettling, especially that small sliver of time between getting into bed and actually falling asleep. 

When they stumbled into the room, Dean immediately ran to the bathroom, locking himself inside to avoid Cas. He sighed and stood for a moment before turning on the shower. Somehow, they had gotten one of the better motels with shampoo, conditioner, and body wash included. 

Castiel walked in after Dean, setting his things on the bed closest to the wall, enjoying the feeling of solid ground for a moment. After a bit, Castiel stood up and adjusted the sheets, messing up the tightly made bed. There was something he could appreciate about messing up something so pristine, like he had control over this at least. It was when he turned around to take of his shoes that he heard the fluttering of wings in the room.

"Gabriel," Castiel sighed ruefully. There was a light chuckle sound as he looked up to face his brother. "So, a room all to yourselves. Couldn't be more perfect," the angel grinned, taking a seat on the opposite bed. 

"I'm not going to couple with him, Gabriel," Castiel answered before standing and going to the duffel bag Dean had brought. He pulled off his button up in favor of a t-shirt he had fished out. Gabriel made a noise of disapproval in response. 

"Why not? You like him don't you?" Castiel could feel his face heat up slightly, but he continued with the task of getting dressed for bed. 

"It's not a matter if I like him. Dean rejects the very idea. He became quite…violent after your visit," Castiel told him, finally dressed. Gabriel just grinned.

"That's a sign he likes you back. Trust me, I knew a guy from the 18th century. Gay as hell but would never admit it out loud. Great lay, that one."

"This is not a game Gabriel. Perhaps our Father…perhaps he is wrong about Dean and I. Maybe he just wanted me by Dean's side platonically," Castiel offered. He knew their Father's word was absolute, but he had made mistakes before, even if the Host didn't like to admit it. 

"Trust me on this one, baby brother," Gabriel replied, standing in front of Castiel. He placed a hand on his should, a firm yet reassuring squeeze. "This prophecy is not wrong." Castiel looked away for a moment, the flutter of wings again meeting his ear as the hand left his shoulder. 

Castiel sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. The shower was still running loudly, a few notes of a hummed, 'Highway to Hell' serenade making its way into the room. Castiel brought the heels of his palms up to his eyes, digging them into the sockets as he tried to stave off the exhaustion that crept up over him. 

He wanted to stay up and talk to Dean about the previous night. He wanted nothing more to believe it was just the result of the alcohol he had consumed, but he couldn't help but suspect the liquor had only served as a way to open Dean up to the truth. 

After a moment of stand with his hands over his eyes, Castiel walked over to the bed, opting to lay down as he waited. But the water kept running and Castiel felt the haze of sleep fast approaching. 

He was asleep before Dean could even finish shampooing.

\--

Castiel woke the next morning gradually, one of the better ways to waking up in his opinion. The sunlight was coming in through a small crack in the curtains, interrupting the once dark atmosphere. He made a slight groan and rolled over, trying to catch a few more precious moments of sleep. 

As he was slowly slipping back into unconsciousness, a click came at the door before it swung open followed by the sound of plastic bags rustling. Cas made another begrudged moan before rolling over to see Dean amongst the bright light streaming in.

"Morning sleeping beauty," Dean greeted before tossing the bags on top of Castiel. A gruff noise came from him as the heavy bags fell on him. 

"What are these?" He asked, pulling himself up to a sitting position. Inside the bags, Castiel found, was assorted clothes. There were t-shirts, v-necks, button ups, and and many pairs of jeans. "I tried to pick out bunch stuff. We can get specifics later, but this should be good for now," Dean told him.

Castiel blinked a few times, trying to pinpoint something that would be good to say, but he found himself saying 'thank you' and rolling out of bed. He continued to dig through the clothes, laying them out on the bed so he could decide what would be best to wear. 

"There's some briefs in the bottom of the third bag. I take you for a briefs guy, so." Dean was across the room, opening a laptop he had brought with him as well as sitting down a bag of food he had bought while out. 

"I got a cheeseburger for you. There's this place here, Jenna's, great stuff," Dean told him, digging into the bag. Castiel nodded, giving him another thank you before picking out a burgundy v-neck and a pair of faded jeans. 

When he was dressed, Castiel joined Dean at the table, sitting stiffly across from him. He was wary of Dean's current actions. He was in a good mood, one Castiel sincerely did not want to ruin. So he said nothing and he was handed a cheeseburger, opting instead to eat and not bring up Dean's screamed words.

"Ok, so, Bobby said that one of our guys found this place, all the vamps beheaded, strong smell of sulfur, and a group of demons took out a friend m his," Dean said between bites. "So we're just doing some recon right now since you can't shoot a gun. Sammy should be here two days, tops." 

Castiel simply nodded, eating his own burger. When they finished, they left the motel, driving across town out to a rather rural farming community. The rolling fields were calming in terms of landscape to Castiel, his view filled with nothing but endless planes of green as they drove.

Eventually, they came to a large two story farmhouse that was old and decrepit, even from the outside. "Ready?" Dean asked as he parked the car, glancing towards Cas, who nodded in return. 

The two of them got out of the impala, making their way to the trunk of the car. Dean opened his arsenal, handing Castiel a knife before taking the Colt for himself. "That should zap any demon," Dean said, motioning to the knife in Cas' hands before leading Castiel inside the house.

The door opened easily for them, still slightly jarred from the massacre. Inside, the home was rather well taken care of, blood stain on the floor aside. "Shit," Dean murmured, walking carefully around the pools of dried blood. The corpses had already been removed for disposal, Bobby had told him. 

They slowly made their way around the house, looking for anything out of the ordinary or some sort of clue as to why the demons would've wanted the nest of vampires eradicated. As they walked, Castiel happened to glance down one of the hallways, a smear of red catching his eye. 

At the end of the hall there was an angelic symbol painted in dried blood. Intrigued, Castiel turned towards it, his brows knitted together as he looked. It was drawn well, as if the writer had time to make the lines solid rather than streaky in haste.

A sudden noise to his left caught Castiel's attention. He turned just in time to catch a woman, her eyes pitch black, as she punched him, sending the knife in his hands clattering to the floor. 

Castiel reeled, with the pain surging through his lower jaw. He made a small noise of alarm before opening his mouth. "Dean," he tried, his voice barely above a whisper. "DE-" he yelled, cut off by the woman who was on top of him, her hand clamped over his mouth. "Damn you're noisy," she hissed. 

"Just wear him already." Another voice said, male in tone as far as Castiel could tell. The woman, a brunette in a rather nice button down, just smirked. "Fine. I'll go ahead and wear him home," she replied, pulling her hand from his mouth. 

Castiel opened his mouth to yell for Dean again, who he could hear calling his name in alarm. But just as he began to say anything, the woman opened her mouth and let a stream of black smoke out of her and into Castiel.

Possession was something Cas had been acquainted with a few times in his life. It was abrasive, suppressive, and overall very unpleasant. But that was back when he was a celestial being filled with the grace of the holy host. As a human, every sensation was magnified and twice as bad.

The initial feeling was slimy as the demon emptied out of the brunette and into Castiel. His mouth was stretched impossibly wide and he was unable to breath, causing a slight panic in response from his body. He could feel his consciousness being shoved to the side by the demon. It made him feel like he was submerged, like the air was being shoved out of his lungs, like every cell in his body was on fire.

He tried to scream once the demon was finally in him, but no sound escaped him. He tried to lift his arms to reach for the knife, but instead they gripped the limp brunette above him, shoving her carelessly to the side. 

A man with black eyes was there, offering a hand to him, which he took. "Ugh, this guy. He's still got some angel in him. It makes me feel a little sick," he heard himself saying as he stood. Behind the first man stood another, his eyes also dark. The demon in front of him was a tall brunette with a bit of scruff on his face. The second, a clean cut blonde, who was no older than twenty whose black eyes didn't suit his pale skin well. 

"Well, let's go," he heard himself saying again. He fought with everything he had to keep himself planted there, to scream for Dean, to punch the demon in front of him, but it was all futile. His muscles were not his own anymore.

"Fuck," he muttered. "He's fighting. You know, I've only ever had one other human fight back, and he was a real looker. A priest of all things." He laughed cruelly, the other two joining in. He felt himself about to say something else when a shot rang out, pegging brunette demon between the eyes. It's body convulsed with the sound of an electric fizzle before it collapsed.

"Shit," the blonde demon said, backing up a bit. Castiel felt himself turn, seeing a furious Dean standing there, the Colt firmly gripped in his hands. Castiel tried to call to Dean, convey some sort of distress, but all the came out of his mouth was a cackle. 

"Well, you must be the great Dean Winchester. I've heard a lot about you," he said, the words like poison on his tongue. The other demon stepped up beside Castiel, flanking him slightly. 

Dean snarled, bringing the Colt up level with Castiel's head. "You get out of him, right now," he growled. Castiel felt the demon bark out a laugh. Then, there was a sensation like something was scratching at the inside of his skull.

"Please. I doubt you'd kill your best friend," he said. Then, the blonde demon was handing Castiel something, the hilt of a knife. The demon blade. "I would, though." 

Dean shifted, a look of panic crossing his features for a moment. "You'd only be killing yourself," Dean said, the gun still held up. Castiel laughed again.

"True, but I'd also be taking the angel with me. You know, he's still awake. Did he tell you his angel brother said 'hey' last night?" Cas grinned, turning to the other demon. "Did you know they're gay for each other? Isn't that just the best? A fallen angel in love with a hunter."

The blonde demon chuckled lightly. "Dean Winchester fucking a man. Boys downstairs would love to hear that," it said, a devilish smirk on it's face. Dean snarled and aimed towards it. A look of panic ran over its features before Dean fired, zapping it and causing the demon in Castiel to jump. 

As Castiel turned, Dean caught him, impossibly close and shoving him against a wall. The air rushed out of his body and a sharp shiver of pain crawled up his spine. His arms were pinned above him by Dean's large, rough hand.

He felt himself spit in Dean's face. "Fuck you," the demon hissed. Castiel wanted to stop. He hated the look in Dean's eyes, the words that the demon was forcing him to say. None of it felt right.

"I don't think so, you son of a bitch," Dean said, shoving harder on Castiel's wrist. Cas could feel the demon rage inside of him, the burning feeling spiking up into a full inferno.

However, it quickly fizzled out as Castiel felt himself smile. "He likes you, you know," he purred, his hips thrusting up towards Dean's. The hunter pulled back slightly, but still held fast. 

"He thinks this destiny thing is a blessing," he said, his body still wiggling under Dean. "Well, thought. You seem to put a damper on it. You know, if I was the angel, I would've dropped you like yesterday's trash."

Dean shoved harder, beginning an exorcism. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritis," he said, the Latin falling easily from his mouth, an ounce of hatred delivered with each word. 

Castiel could feel the demon in him claw at the inside of his brain. The heat flared as it fought the words, giving Castiel a bad case of vertigo. Its clawing became more desperate as Dean chanted further into the exorcism. The heat felt like it was burning him from the inside, his mind being dragged out. The slime seemed to return as black smoke poured from his mouth. 

"…libbertate server, te rogamus, audi nos," Dean finished, pulling the rest of the demon with it as Castiel's body finally became his own again. His knees went weak with the sudden liberation. Dean caught him under the arms, supporting his weight.

"Hey, hey Cas? You alright?" Castiel nodded lightly as Dean helped him to settle on the floor. He groaned lightly, his whole body tender, if that was possible. 

"Dean," Castiel mumbled, a cough following the word. The inside of his throat felt scratched and inflamed, most likely from the demon's exit.

"I'm here, Cas, you're fine." Dean's voice was low as he checked Castiel over. The punch to his jaw had left a small cut surrounded by a bruise smeared with blood. Castiel moaned in pain as Dean touched it, trying to gauge how bad the damage to the man's face was. 

"Fuck, hey, can you stand? We gotta go," Dean told him, already lifting Castiel up. He went willingly, though painfully, out to the Impala. Dean got him in before getting into the driver's seat and peeling out of the lot. He didn't want to stick around if reinforcements showed up. 

They drove in silence back to the motel. Once inside the room, Dean sat Castiel down on the bed and pulled his shirt up over his head, the man's back the goal of his undress. 

"Fuck," he muttered, shuffling through his duffel bag for a first aid kit. While Dean tossed things around the room, muttering profanities, Castiel became curious as to what injuries he could've sustained. He wandered to the mirror, turning so he could view his back. 

A dark purple bloom of a bruise ran down his right side where Dean had shoved his possessed body. It was almost beautiful in appearance if not for the pain that occasionally flared from even the smallest of touches. He looked at it for a few minutes more before Dean was saying something to him. 

"Cas, come still down, let me get that cut." 

Castiel did as he was told, walking back to the bed. He sat gingerly before Dean as the hunter went to work on his face, cleaning away the blood, a slight sting associated with it.

"Fuck," he murmured quietly when the blood was all cleaned away. The skin around the corner of Castiel's lip was swollen and already a dark color. Castiel didn't seem to mind much, but Dean couldn't help but feel his chest clench up. 

"I'm sorry, Cas," he murmured, touching it lightly. It was suppose to be a simple scout. Nothing was suppose to happen. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Castiel said quietly. There were dark circles under his eyes despite only having woke up a few hours ago. To Dean, his whole frame seemed smaller, paler, weaker. He should've never taken him there. 

"Yeah, I do," Dean hissed. "I put you in danger. Those bitches could have taken you, killed you!" The look that Dean gave Cas was one of anguish. "You're not an angel anymore, Cas. They can kill you now."

Castiel gave Dean a harrowing look, his own eyes filled with pain, from both his injuries and internal turmoil. He knew about Dean's loss, from his parents, to his brother, good friends, and even Castiel himself. The mere idea of loosing another friend was an unbearable weight on his shoulders. Castiel mere frowned before placing a hand on Dean's knee. 

"I know. I'm sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, as usual, we have Dean yelling at Cas who just takes the abuse. This may also be slightly longer than I thought, maybe four chapters? We'll see.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where a touch of major violence and torture begins. Next chapter will be far more gruesome. Just a warning!  
> As ever, I'd like to thank Ringosohma and Cookies-575 for being my beautiful betas!

"But why do I need it Dean?" Castiel asked, speeding up his pace to catch up with Dean. 

"Because, unless you wanna be some demon's meat suit again, you're gonna need it," came Dean's response. 

They strolled along the city streets of Akron, their stomachs full of lunch already. The sidewalks were already busy with people, families and business men alike. A few glanced at the bandage on Castiel's cheek before darting their glances away and continuing on with their naive lives. 

"That still doesn't explain a tattoo," Castiel said begrudgingly. He had been against the idea ever since Dean brought up the appointment he had set for the next morning. 

"Best way to do it, Cas. They can take off a necklace and paint flakes off. Trust me, this is the way to go," Dean replied, a grin on his face. He hadn't planned on getting the man a tattoo, but the mere idea of putting a mark on the ex-angel's skin was some kind of metaphor that Dean just couldn't pass up. 

Castiel just grunted an unhappy noise as he continued to follow Dean down the street. It was a cool morning, much colder than the last, and Castiel had settled on wearing a long-sleeved, gray t-shirt. It complimented the blue plaid that Dean was wearing, but if anyone asked, Castiel would say it was not by design. Even if it was. 

"Here," Dean said, directing Castiel towards a small tattoo shop crammed in between a bakery and a 'For Rent' building front. The shop itself was rather homey. Plush armchairs were arranged in the front with posters of different designs decorating the walls. A short, chubby bearded man sat at a desk, various bottles of ink and paint surrounding him amongst a large guest book. 

"Hi," he beamed. "I'm Noah, you must be Dean?" Noah stood, offering a hand and polite smile. 

"Yeah, that's me," Dean answered, a polite smile of his own plastered to his face. Castiel raised his brow at the greeting. Dean wasn't using a fake identity or alias, much to his surprise. 

"Great! So, what are we doing today? A touch up? Another tat?" Noah asked, leading them further into the shop. Two rooms branched off near the back with various other chairs, moveable lamps, and several threatening looking machines. Noah directed them towards one of the rooms on the right, walking in with them. 

"Actually, my friend Cas is getting this one," Dean responded, pulling his shirt to the side to show his pentagram. Noah made an appreciative noise. "Another hunter? Haven't gotten a new one in a while. Everyone's going west coast." 

The man turned around, fiddling with some sort of machine and several bottles of ink, pinking up a black container. He squirted a liberal amount into a small cup before picking up an ink pen. 

"Alright," he said, gesturing to an armoire in front of him that looked something like a dentist's chair. "So where do you want it?" Noah asked Castiel. 

Castiel stared for a moment, then at Dean. "Somewhere inconspicuous," he answered, an eyebrow raised to Dean. 

"That's a pretty wide area, Cas. You want your stomach, back, ribs?" Dean listed off areas he deemed well hidden. Castiel looked down at his hands, thinking. "The ribs perhaps?" He implored. 

Noah smiled, "sounds good. Gonna need you to take off your shirt though." 

Another look was exchanged with Dean, who merely shrugged. "Can't go through your shirt, man." Castiel did as he was told, peeling off the layers to satisfy the request. 

"Looks like I'm going to have to do the right side. Geez, where did you get this bruise?" Noah questioned as he applied a cool tattoo prep gel to Castiel's side. Dean was pulling a chair up to the bench Castiel was on. "Work," Dean responded.

"You guys should be careful. I heard one guy got shredded a few days back over in Newton Falls," Noah said, already sketching dark ink marks on Castiel's skin. The outline of the pentagram slowly came together, an almost carbon copy of the one adorning Dean's chest.

"Yeah, that's why we're here," Dean supplied, watching the tattoo artist roll his chair back to his desk. He brought the ink and tattoo gun back over, testing it a few times. "That's good. You get the thing?" He asked conversationally, dipping the needles into the ink.

Castiel watched the gun carefully, aware of the needles suddenly before him. "Nah, we're working on it. Gotta get Cas here square and we'll handle it. Oh, hey, Cas, this is gonna hurt, so don't freak out."

A small scoff came from the man. "I have spent centuries in agony. I doubt this will be any different." Noah raised his eyebrows a bit, but continued. He'd hear plenty of things in his career, especially after just about getting his head ripped off to some kind of freakish beast. He learned it was best to ignore the questionable parts.

The gun buzzed as it made contact with Castiel's pale skin, causing the ex-angel to seize up slightly. "Dean," he murmured, a pained noise to the name. The hunter scooted his chair closer to Castiel, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Told you. Just relax, don't move too much. You'll be done soon." Castiel clenched his teeth as the needles jammed into his flesh. There was an occasional pause as Noah loaded more ink, but it was right back as he outlined the tattoo. 

Everything was going well, pain aside. It wasn't until the shading began that Castiel's adrenaline faded out, leaving a persistent, stabbing pain. "Dean," he said again, more urgent this time. Dean gave him a small smile, resting his hand on Cas' arm. 

Castiel seized the hand, gripping it in his own as small mewling noises escaped his mouth. 

"Sorry," Noah said. "This is the worst part. It'll be a while, but I'll try to hurry." He continued scraping the gun into Castiel's skin, the black ink marking his skin in a dark contrast. 

"Hey, come on Cas, it's looking good. You're doing really well," Dean told him softly. His other hand reached up, running through the dark brown locks of Castiel's hair. They were surprisingly soft to the touch as gently carded through the hair. 

They stayed like that a few minutes more, Dean offering support in the form of soothing words and gentle stokes of his hair while Castiel kept up a brave face. 

"I may have suffered years of agony," Castiel said quietly. "But these last two days have been by far the worst." Dean just chuckled. "Welcome to humanity, Cas. It's a bitch." 

The needle continued to buzz away as Noah finished the last few spots of the tattoo, wiping off the blood and excess ink to make sure he got it all. "Well," he said in satisfaction. "That should be it." 

Castiel inhaled sharply as another layer of ointment was placed on the tender flesh, his grip on Dean lightening, but not relinquishing. 

"So, how long have you two been together?" Noah asked, looking up from the task of applying a large gauze bandage. 

"Dean and I have known each other for five years," Castiel replied quickly, trying to focus on anything but the prodding his tender side. Dean felt his mouth opening and closing, but no words escaped him. Castiel stared up at Dean as the hunter's face turned a rather interesting shade of pink. 

"We're just friends though," Dean said once he found his voice. Noah chuckled. "Really? You two make a good couple, all aside." All parties scooted away from Castiel for one reason or another. Dean handed him his shirt, trying to keep himself from meeting Castiel curious gaze. 

"Just," Dean says, trying to articulate his words. "How much do I owe you?"

\--

The two of them made their way back to their motel, Dean to call Bobby and do a bit more research, and Castiel to care for his wounds and tattoo. Dean shut and locked the door behind them as both men set upon their tasks.

Castiel's first priority was to take a painkiller for his back and newly acquired tattoo. The artist had informed him on all the practices and aftercare techniques required to help it heal. But first, he removed the bandage on his face, allowing the wound to breathe. He could hear Dean in the background, taping away on the laptop he had brought with them. 

"Dean?" He asked, applying ointment to his cut cheek. He heard the grunt from Dean in respond to Castiel as he still worked feverishly on any more reports of strange activity. "Could you help me?"

The hunter looked up at that, aware of Castiel's shirtless form at the mirror. "What's up?" He ask, refusing to move. Castiel turned, his eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "I can't lift my left arm without pain. Could you assist me with the ointment?" 

Dean paused for a moment before rising. "Yeah. Yeah no problem." He walked over to Castiel, taking the ointment from his hands. The bruise on his back had slowly started to heal, the deep purple color already beginning to fade. 

He turned away from the injury, instead focusing on the bandaged tattoo beneath Castiel's right arm. Dean pulled the gauze away before squeezing a fair amount of ointment onto the side of it. Castiel winced slightly as Dean rubbed it in, trying to cover every square inch of skin. 

"Dean," Castiel said quietly, pulling the hunter's attention to him. Castiel was looking up at him, his eyes trained on Dean. "Why did you tell that man that we were merely friends when there is prophecy that we are to be partners?" 

There was a moment of silence as Dean considered what to tell Castiel. He wanted to stay level headed with the situation. The last time he had approached the the whole 'prophecy' thing, he had been more than drunk and royally pissed. Now, he was sober as all hell with a rather level head. 

"Look, Cas, he didn't mean like, together together. He meant, uh, how long we had know each other." Dean was not one to lie to Castiel, but he wasn't exactly telling the true either. In his book, that was half the battle. 

"I may not be socially knowledgable, but I am fairly certain that he had meant as partners." Castiel glanced at him over his shoulder, as Dean reapplied the gauze. 

"Well, you don't just," Dean sighed, turning away from Castiel as he ran a hand through his short hair. "You don't just go around blurting stuff like that!" Cas cocked his head, watching Dean carefully.

"But it's true, is it not?" Dean turned around, looking Castiel straight in the eyes.The man had a confused look on his faces he tried to decipher what it all meant. Dean tried to find a metaphor he could equate it all with when the idea struck him. 

"It's like personal space, Cas," Dean started, a smile coming to his face. "You don't invade people's bubble, you don't tell strangers your friends' business. Capiche?" Castiel pinched his face up as he considered the notion. 

"I understand," Castiel said. "But why must we speak in Italian?"

\--

It took Sam two days longer than expected to arrive in Newton Falls, leaving Dean and Castiel with the awkward task of dancing around each other. It had become almost second nature to Dean to avoid conversation with Castiel unless absolutely necessary. Even Sam had noticed after twenty minutes around the two. 

The three of them had gone out to lunch to discuss their course of action. It was one of their normal 24/hour diner haunts, complete with mediocre food, bored waitresses, and dim atmosphere. During the course of lunch, Castiel had gotten up to use the restroom, giving Sam the opportunity to pounce. 

"Dude," he said, his eyes fixed on Dean with determination on his face. "What the hell?" Dean stared back, his burger already halfway to his mouth. "What?" He asked defensively. 

"What's up with you and Cas? You're acting like he stole your favorite toy or something." Dean opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unable to say anything. It took him a few seconds of working his mouth before he finally came up with something good to say. 

"Did you just call me a kid?" 

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not important. What is important is why you and Cas are giving each other the stink eye every few seconds." Dean pursed his lips and set his burger down, directing his attention to more pressing matters. 

"Nothing 'happened' Sam. He's fine, we're fine." Dean frowned unhappily, completely done with the conversation. He had constantly gotten it from Cas, he didn't need to hear it from his brother too. 

Sam's frown joined Dean's, about to press the issue until Castiel walked back into the dining room. They continued with their lunch in tense silence, no one willing to address the situation at hand.

When lunch was over, they made their way back to the motel, outlining what they knew about the demons in the area, research on any spells that have to do with vampire blood, and current activity of any supernatural creatures there. Castiel sat quietly on the bed, providing the occasional, unnecessary answer to Sam's rhetorical questions. Dean was planted on the bed closest to Sam, skimming through various news articles for anything of use.

"Dude, this place is cleaner than should be possible," Dean exclaimed, the frustration evident in his tone. "There haven't been any murder in this town since the freaking dinosaurs." He reached over and seized his beer from the night stand, polishing off what little liquid was left. 

"The only history I have is pretty solid, too," Sam agreed, glancing at the two other men. "Those vamps weren't even feeding here. It's almost like they just moved in or something."

Dean cursed loudly and threw the bottle into the trash can. He stalked to the bag of food they kept in the room, cursing again when he found it devoid of beer. Sam watched him carefully, gauging the situations before turning to the other member of their pow wow.

"Hey, Cas," he asked, catching the man's attention. "Why don't you go grab us some more drinks? Dean and I will keep looking," Sam said with a smile as he pulled out his wallet, retrieving a few bills. 

The ex-angel rose and took the money from Sam, his face stricken with a look of bemusement. "There's a gas station about a five minute walk from here. Just, ah, grab a pack that doesn't say lite." Castiel nodded in agreement before walking out of the motel room. 

The moment the door clicked shut, Sam was turning toffee his brother, an icy stare sent his way. Dean met it with a glare of his own which was how they stayed for a while, neither willing to back down from the challenge. Dean broke first when his voice filled the otherwise silent room.

"What is this, your idea of an interrogation?" He spat. Sam raised his eyebrows before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah Dean, if that's what you want to call it." 

Dean groaned angrily as he brought his hands up to his face. The heels of his palms dug painfully into his his eyes, sparks of color flying behind his eyelids as he tried to clear his mind. "Can we not talk about this?" 

Sam quickly replied irritation lacing his tone. "No, we need to talk about this. What is wrong with you? You and Cas were mancrushing all over each other until Gabriel showed up." Dean scoffed, letting his arms fall down and slap his sides. 

"You do this thing, Dean, where you don't let yourself be happy," Sam continued, his voice on the side of pleading. "I've watched you do it all of my life and, for once, I see you smiling like you used to. Before all of this 'apocalypse' crap."

Dean turned to his brother, a pained curiosity in his eyes. He wanted so much to admit that Sam was wrong. He wanted to yell and scream that he was happy and contented with his life, but he knew it wasn't true. Instead, he stood there fuming as Sam continued. 

"When you look at him, you're happy, Dean. You smile more when he's around, you're excited when he learns new things, and you're in a better mood when he's around! And now, all of a sudden, you're running away? You never run away, Dean."

A small sigh escaped Sam as he finished, giving way for Dean to speak. "Well, here's an idea genius. I'm not running," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Sam watched him for a moment, his eyebrows knitted together. "You're right," he said finally, causing Dean to look at him with mild shock. "There's nothing to run from. You love him and that's great Dean. And guess what? No one cares but you."

Dean went to say something, but closed his mouth instead. He was so sick of fighting everyone over the issue. He did NOT love Cas. He didn't. It was just a fact of life. The dude was his best friend, plain and simple. 

"Where is he anyway?" He asked, redirecting the conversation. Sam glanced over at the time on his laptop, calculating that roughly thirty minutes had past since the man departed. "He's probably staring at the beer, trying to pick the right one," Sam replied, running a hand through his air. 

Sam was grateful the tension had resolved, but his words still stood firm. 

\--

Castiel had walked to the gas station, taking in the scenery around him as went. Fall had turned the leaves all shades of reds and oranges, creating beautiful display in an otherwise dreary town. He had managed to pick out a brand of beer that he knew Dean liked and pay, receiving his change before walking out.

As he left, Castiel couldn't help but notice a gathering of people across the street. Each one of them had their gaze glued to Castiel. It wasn't fully unusual to him. Sam and Dean tended to attract a large amount of attention, but something about off about the group as they glared at him.

Each of them looked as if they didn't belong there. One man was wearing a rather expensive looking suit standing across from a woman in a blue dress. Both seemed to be rather wealthy, a stark comparison to the boy whom looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, complete with pajama bottoms and tank top. The last was a tall, burly looking man with large, combat boots. 

Castiel began to reach for his phone, only taking his eyes away for a moment to scroll through the contacts when he ran into the combat booted man. He stared at him, confused, before turning to see the spot where he had been standing was now vacant. He looked back to the man, only to be once again blind sided by a demon's fist. He went sailing to the ground, the many items in his hand clattering on the cement.

The world was spinning as Castiel tried to gauge the situation. There was broken glass all around him, some of the shards digging into his arms as he tried to sit up. Blood poured from the wounds as he hissed, the sudden pain catching him off guard. The beer that had spilled was soaking into his jeans, the smell of alcohol seeping into him. His phone had fallen a few feet away, the screen cracked, but otherwise working. 

He scrambled for the phone, his arm outstretched in his desperation. The man, his eyes flicking to pitch black, was there and stepping on Castiel's arm. He grinned as he ground his heel into the flesh causing Castiel to let out a broken shout. The demon leaned down, letting him off the ground by the hair on the back of his neck. 

Castiel opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but another demon was there in a moment, pressing a foul rag to his face. Castiel struggled against it, inhaling several times as his vision began to spin as black pulled at the edges. He gave his attackers one final defiant glare before the darkness took him under.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry this took so long. It's really crappy and pretty thrown together. I feel like it's a bad repair job.

The Impala screeched to a halt outside the gas station as Dean flew out of his seat, a sense of dread low in his gut. "Cas?" he called, already spotting the blood and broken glass on the sidewalk. The blood was mixed with the beer, creating a light red coating on the ground.

"Shit," he cursed openly, pacing the sidewalk. "Shit!" 

Sam climbed out of the car as well and walked to Dean's side. He ran a hand through his hair as he surveyed the scene laid out before him. Panic was begging to set in for Sam, but it was nothing compared to Dean's. Sam turned to face his brother, only to see him stalking back to the car. 

"Dean?" he called, following Dean back to the Impala, whose engine was still purring as she waited. Sam slid into the passenger seat next to Dean. "So," he asked. "What now?" Dean gripped the wheel before throwing it into reverse. "Cas and I found some demons at the nest. They jumped him, possessed him," he hissed, hatred seeping from the words. "There might be some leads there." 

"How far is it?" Sam asked as they pulled onto the road, already excellerting to well above the speed limit. "Five minutes," Dean answered, leaving the rest of the drive to be suffered in silence. 

Dean barely kept the car under control as they swung into the old farmhouse's driveway. They climbed out of the car with Dean leading the way into the house. They split up as Dean walked with purpose towards the hallway where Castiel had been assaulted. The blood sigil was still there, though it was flaking from oxidization. 

The bodies were still there from the fight, but they were covered by a bed sheet as if for some kind of sick closure. Dean was positive no human had found the bodies yet and he wasn't even sure if demons had a sense of sentiment. 

As Dean picked over the scene, looking for any kind of clues, he heard the sounds of a scuffle and Sam's voice calling out to him. He immediately took off running, pulling his gun out as he went. It didn't take but a few seconds for Dean to find Sam in the kitchen, wrestling with a teenaged boy. The boy's eyes were pitch black, a look of hatred in his face. 

Dean jumped into the fray almost immediately, punching the kid aside as he glanced over at his brother. The punch only threw the demon for a moment before he was running at Dean.

The hunter took a punch to the face before delivering his own, punching the sorry sap. Dean had half a mind to put the fucker down, but Sam called at him, laying some sort of cloth out on the ground. Dean noticed the symbol painted on the surface as he shoved the kid onto it, a perfect devil's trap painted on it. 

The creature screeched when anger when he understood he was trapped, cursing at the hunters. Dean merely let out a huff of a breath. "Where the hell you learn that trick?" he asked, a slight smirk on his face.

"Bobby," Sam beamed. "Portable and it can't be broken easily." 

"Great," Dean replied, turning to the caught creature. "Go get the holy water and salt so we can get started."

\--

Castiel awoke slowly, a dull pain in the back of his head and his mouth dry as cotton. The room he was in was dark, giving no clues as to where he was. He tried to stand up, but found that his wrists were firmly tied to the chair he sat in. Fear began to seep into Castiel quickly as he tried once more to get up.

He heard a door click open to his left and a sudden, bright light invaded the room. Castiel blinked painfully as his eyes worked to adjust to the light. He could hear someone walking in accompanied by the calculated clicks of dress shoes. 

"You must be the fallen angel, Castiel," a man said, finally walking into view. A well dressed man stalked towards Castiel, his suit pristine and not a strand of his dark hair out of place. He held himself tall and his smile was one filled with venom. 

Castiel turned away from the man, taking in the room he was currently being held in. It was practically bare aside from a table covered in various knives, glimmering tools, even an angel blade, and other items he couldn't identify. The walls were bear and the floor was concrete with ominous, dried blood splatters scattered the ground. 

The man caught Castiel's attention again as he walked to the table, a smirk on his face as he examined the many weapons. He hummed thoughtfully before turning to Cas, folding his hands thoughtfully behind his back as he took in the sight of the ex-angel. Castiel was sure he looked downright pitiful. 

"My name is Valefor and you, my previously feathered friend, are a very rare prize indeed." His voice was thick and sweet, as if luring Castiel into a sense of false security.

"Now, I'm not exactly trained in the methods of torture, I'm more of a thieves' man. However, I have been tasked to you as a, well, temporary warden." Valefor turned away from Castiel, back to the table of tools as he continued to speak. "I am also obligated to ask you a few," he paused, his eyes flicking to black to drive his point home, "questions." 

Valefor reached forward, his eyes returning to their dark brown before taking the angel blade into his hands. Castiel recognized it as one of the angels he had once been associated with in a lower garrison, but Valefor had no concern for whom it belonged to, just who it would be cutting into. 

"So, I'll ask you once before I begin, I want the locations of prophets, tablets, angels, and their weaknesses. Specifically Archangels. However, any Seraph you can associate will help tremendously." Another calculated smile appeared on the man's face. 

Castiel remained silent, glaring at him instead. He had been tortured before and hadn't broken. He was sure this time would be no different. Valefor sighed dejectedly. "Well, if you insist."

The movement was quick and concise, it barely registered in Castiel's mind before the stinging pain came from his cheek. Warm blood pooled at a shallow cut there, the angel blood barely knocking the surface. Valefor made a dissatisfied tutting noise. 

"So, it's true. You are just a mud-crawling human," the demon said, a slight touch of glee to his tone. "Well, this should be easy then." 

All Castiel could do was stare at the demon, willing every ounce of hatred in his body into his gaze. He wanted this thing to know how much he hated it, how quickly he'd kill him if he had his grace, how merciless he would be. The angelic grace in him seemed to agree, growing from a low pretense to a small warmth in his chest.

Valefor tutted again. "Oh angel, no need to get angry at me. You should only be angry at yourself." Castiel's gaze shifted from rage to disgruntled curiosity, the words taking him by surprise. The demon chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "Please, one of my boys were in your head. I know all about your little 'predestined' romance. Not going to well is it?" 

Castiel turned his gaze slightly, giving the demon the answer he wanted. "And it's your fault," he told Cas, his voice once again sweet as molasses. "The Winchester doesn't want you because you don't appeal to him. You are vengeful and lost in a world that you no longer belong to. Trust me when I say you are of no use to anyone now. Not to the Winchesters, not to the angels, and if you remain silent, you are of no use to me."

The demon could only smirk as his words sunk in, sending a dark shadow over Castiel's face. Valefor took it as an opportunity to cut Castiel once again, slicing the blade into the man's arm. A pained hiss came out of Castiel as more blood oozed out of him. 

"Who are the next prophets?" the demon asked. Castiel remained silent, focusing on his knees as some type of anchor form the pain. Valefor simply scoffed and cut once more. "Where are the tablets?"

Again, Castiel remained quiet. Another cut sliced horizontally on his arm. "Where are the archangels?" When Castiel met his questions with silence again, Valefor resorted to using the hilt of the blade to knock Castiel across the cheek, catching the first cut and adding a gash across his cheek bone. 

Castiel gasped, the sudden blindsiding pain, his mouth hanging open as he inhaled the lost air. "Where is the entrance to purgatory?" Castiel turned back to him, shock in his eyes, but his silence stayed strong. Valefor sighed. 

"It seems this will take a while." 

\--

"Where the hell is he?!" Dean screamed, another spray of holy water leaving the flask in his hands. The demon he and Sam had caught, now securely tied to a chair, hissed in pain. The burns joined many other as well as cuts and bruises decorating it's skin. 

Dean let out another string of colorful curses when the creature remained silent, laughing at Dean's desperation. "You won't find him," it said, a constant repeated phrase. "Even if I told you, you'd never find him." 

Sam sat out in the hall, no amount of doors or walls able to subdue the sounds of torture. It had been a good three hours of the same questioning and the only information they got led them in circles. 

There was one final tapered scream before the sound of muffled talking floated out to the hall. Sam took that as his cue to go in, maybe convince Dean to take a break, sleep, eat, anything. He pulled himself off the floor, walking into the kitchen, the scene still the same as when he left. There might have been a bit more blood on the demon, but Sam didn't say anything.

The boy in the chair was grinning, laughing as Sam came in. "You really are hopeless," the creature said to Dean. "You know that demon that had your angel by the balls?" Sam saw his brother flinch, but his glare remained solid and hate-filled. The demon continued, "He's been going around, telling everyone his dirty little secrets."

"Word is you take it up the ass. You a faggot, Winchester?" The boy laughed again. Dean simply splashed a good amount of holy water onto the thing's face. The laugh fizzled into a hiss as Dean turned to Sam. His face was screwed up in rage, but Sam could recognize the traces of pain in the expression. "Maybe you should take a break," Sam offered.

Dean growled at the suggestion. "You want me to quit now? I could break him!" Sam's face remained steely, but the demon's cold laugh came from behind them. "What, break me? Gonna pound my ass, faggot?"

Another low, angry noise came from Dean. "Knife," he snapped, bringing his hand up to demand it. Sam sighed in frustration, turning away from his brother with a small scoff. "No, Dean. Just, take a break for a second," he said, turning back to his brother. Dean just glared, his nostrils flared as he spoke, "Cas is out there somewhere, most likely getting the shit beat out of him and this slimy son of a bitch knows exactly where he is. So no, I'm not going to 'take a break.' Now give me the damn knife, Sam."

A pinched look came over Sam's face as he stared at his brother, trying to determine the man's intent. Anguish was painted in his features along with tinges of pure rage. Even if Dean wouldn't note it out loud, there was still something serious he felt for Castiel. 

Another long pause fell between the two Winchesters before Sam sighed. He pulled the knife from the back of his jeans where he had stored it for safe keeping. The blade was jagged with several sigils carved into it; a demon killing blade. Dean reached for it, but Sam pulled it back. "He knows where Cas is, don't kill him yet."

Dean just nodded solemnly before accepting the knife, gripping it tight as he turned to the demon. The boy laughed, flashing a small smile. "What, you gonna make me bleed? It's just a paper cut to me, sugar."

Dean didn't speak as he approached, effectively cutting the knife into the creature's skin. The demon let out a scream, his eyes flying to the cut in his skin. The wound didn't bleed, but instead, singed and glowed around the edges with a strong sulfuric smell. 

"Fuck you!" It hissed, it's tone completely devoid of humor. Dean remained stoic as he cleaned the blade, his stance oozing his anger. The demon continued to seethe, shouting profanities as Dean stared at it. 

"You gonna tell me now?" he asked, earning a line of blood laden spit on his shoe. 

"Fuck. You," it told him. Another blood curdling screech flew from its lips as Dean buried the knife into its shoulder. The boy writhed against his restraints, screaming as its skin burned. Dean merely pulled the knife out, continuing to cut and carve as both the demon and Sam cringed with each cut. 

It took only a few more minutes before it had had enough. 

"FINE," it yelled as Dean approached once more with raised blade. "Fine. There's a new office building going up in Akron. That was headquarters. I'd bet my life that's where it is." The boy scowled as he spoke, disdain filling his voice. Dean merely stared, nodded, and said, "Let's hope so," before burying his knife into its heart. 

Sam stared at him, concern all over his face. Dean merely shook his head. "Let's go."

\--

Castiel let out a tapered gasp as he tried to catch his breath from the slap across his face. His face was covered in blood from various wounds on his head with a bright red cheek from the force of the blow. Scratches decorated his skin where his sleeves had been rolled up and his shirt pushed away. 

It took him a moment to recover from the shock of the blow, but he turned back eventually. His posture was defiant, but his eyes, they told a much different story. There was pain in them mixed with an unbreakable faith.

Valefor tutted softly. "You still think he'll save you," he mused, fixing the lapels of his jacket that had moved from his blow. "He's not coming. And even if he did…" The demon paused, turning once again to pick up a knife off of his table. "I'd only make sure to slice his skin off, inch by inch, with you watching."

Castiel flinched slightly, his affections obvious with that one, small movement. The demon smirked. 

"That's your kryptonite, just as you are his."

He took a step forward, knife brandished when the door to the room flew open. A flustered man stood in the door, a panicked look on his face. "The Winchesters. They're at the farm house. They have Eland." 

Valefor inhaled deeply, a look of anger crossing his face briefly. For a moment, it seemed as if he would lash out and loose his calculated control, but he reined it in quickly. 

"Where are they now?" he questioned, placing the knife on the table. The man in the doorway reclaimed his own composure, standing up to his full height. "They left the home seven minutes ago."

The demon sighed again, then waved his hand over his torture instruments. "Pack this," he ordered. Then he turn to Castiel. The ex-angel stared back, the previous glimmer of hope a full on spark. He didn't allow it to wane under the glare of Valefor. 

"Bag him and ready him for transport. I want to be in Churchill by nightfall."

Castiel turned to him in alarm before the man in the door was before him, a cloth in his hands. His face was covered with the foul rag as once again his world went dark. 

\--

When he awoke again, Castiel found his face pressed against a soft carpet, but the ground moved beneath him. The sound of road noise filtered through his ears over the soft hum of classical music. He thought that was odd, neither Dean nor Sam were the type to listen to classical music, even if Castiel had an infinity for it. 

When he tried to move, he found his wrists firmly secured behind his back. Castiel struggled for a moment, his situation eradicating thoughts of being asleep on the Winchester's back seat. His eyes flew open, the world around him dimmed from sunlight, only the occasional streetlamp lighting his view. He was on the floor curled against a few bags of luggage.

A seat was put away so he could lie down, though it was occupied by a rather plain looking woman in a suit with her legs crossed. She turned to him, her eyes as black as the leather of the chair in which she sat. She smirked lightly. "Morning, angel." 

"Bella," came a chastising voice. She turned forward, a sheepish smile on her face. Valefor sat a seat head of them, only glancing back briefly enough for Castiel to recognize him through the flash of lights. The female demon merely nodded. 

"Do forgive her, Castiel. Many of my protege's social skills are far from pragmatic." The woman sniffed slightly and uncrossed her legs, only to shift her ankles underneath her and closer to Castiel. 

"We should arrive shortly," Valefor informed him, leaving the chords of a piano to take over his words. They drove in silence aside from the music, the driving turning from smooth and steady to erratic, full of stops and turns. 

Castiel tried to follow the movements, track the route, but he only found himself confused and dizzy. He was so lost without his grace, the feeling of being so powerless and deprived of his supernatural senses weighed heavy on his heart. 

The vehicle pulled to a stop and all the occupants exited. (Castiel counted four doors opening, one person climbing out. Five in total.) The back trunk popped open and he was unceremoniously thrown over a man's shoulder. He was carried facing the man, only catching an occasional glimpse of where he was being carried. 

He did, however, see Valefor in full view, striding along next to Castiel. Then, the demon was gone and he was carried into, what appeared to be, a home. He was unceremoniously dropped into a chair, the cushion plush beneath him. 

Hands flew to him, breaking the zip tie around his wrists before securing them to the chair before he could even begin to struggle. Valefor stepped back into view, a briefcase in hand. 

"Do you like it?" he asked, motioning around him. Castiel followed his movements, peering around the room. The interior was decorated with design in mind more than comfort. "It's my summer home," Valefor explained, a small grin on his face. 

"Well," he said. "It's more of this gentleman's summer home." Valefor gestured to the man he had under his possession, a laugh falling easily from his lips. "It would seem that most of my kind don't have the best advantages like myself." The demon paused, a smirk still on his face.

"But, vessels don't count much for status, do they?" He waved towards the two demons standing near the entryway, signaling them to enter with his bags. They worked meticulously, setting everything up just so. Castiel would guess this was a common occurrence with this demon, having everything right if left to his own devices. 

"There," he said happily one the table of torture instruments was set up. "Where did we leave off?"

\--

"God damn it!" Dean shouted as he tore out of the concrete room, away from the blood stained walls. Sam held his hand up to his forehead, taking in the empty room, save a few chairs. One in particular was covered in dried blood which made him rather nervous. 

A metallic clang reverberated out in the halls, followed by Dean's frustrated yelling. "We did everything right!" He screamed. "Fucking demons!" The younger Winchester walked out to the hall, leaning against the wall as his brother slowly self-destructed.

"Dean," he said softly. The man turned towards him, his face conveying the anger there, the devastation. They both knew something was wrong as they busted in, expecting at least a little bit of a fight. They also knew that there was a chance, as small as it would, that they'd either find Castiel dead or not at all. 

Still, the blood filled room was like a slap to the face for Dean. It made him realize just how lost he was without Castiel, angel or not. He kicked a random door again, the metallic clang ringing, sending sensations of pain up his leg despite the thick leather boots he wore. 

"I don't-" Dean started, his voice catching in his throat. "He's gone." 

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Neither knew what to say and the questions they wanted to ask hung heavy in the air. 

Sam was the first to break, asking, "What now?" Dean stood motionless for a few seconds, trying to come up with a good answer. After a moment, he replied in a shaky voice. "I don't know." 

"I do, though," came an upbeat voice. The brothers turned to catch a flash of gold hair as Gabriel sauntered towards them. Sam was almost laughing with relief, but Dean was all sharp edges. 

"What the fuck do you want?" He hissed, his body all angles. "Why, to help you out Dean-o," the angel replied with a smirk. Dean was having none of it, though.

"No, you're not. Because if it weren't for you and your feathery assed pals, we wouldn't be in this mess!" Sam flinched at his brother's words, but Gabriel was smirking as if it was expected. 

"See Dean, this is what I like about you. All bark." He was unwrapping a piece of candy that he suddenly had, no logical explanation for it at all. "And actually, you're the one who got yourself into this mess. See, Castiel was more than open about liking you. And what do you do? You ignore it like some child." His voice had taken on a serious tone, humor gone from his words. 

Dean could only fume as he continued, "trust me, Dean-o, you're as stubborn as they come. Everyone can see how hard you're falling for him. Everyone but yourself." 

Both men glared at the other, the tension in the air overwhelming. Sam stood off to the side, trying not to say something to either opposing force. For one thing, he had to agree with Gabriel. Dean kept his angel close and dear, fighting tooth and nail for him, praying night and day to him. But Dean was also his brother, so if this turned into a brawl, he'd be there. 

"What are you doing here, Gabriel?" Sam asked. It was abundantly apparent that Dean wasn't about to say anything, so Sam made his move. The angel turned to him, his lopsided smile back on his face. "Contrary to popular belief, boys, Castiel is my brother. I do actually care about what happens to him."

With that, the archangel turned and strode back to the blood splattered room. Sam and Dean turned to each other before following after. Gabriel stood in the center of the room, taking in the sight, his gaze like that of a hawk. 

"This is all Castiel's," he said slowly. Sam could hear the audible hitch in Dean's breathing as the angel confirmed his brother's worst fears. "But he's alive. Give me a few more seconds and I can get you an address."

Dean shook his head slightly. "How are yo-" Gabriel held his hand up, catching Dean's words literally in his throat as he scrambled to speak, but uttered no sound. "Got him," Gabriel said finally.

Dean was back to fuming as Gabriel turned to them in triumph. "If you could fucking find him earlier, why the hell didn't you use your angel mojo to, oh I don't know, fucking save Cas?!" he yelled. Gabriel seemed unfazed.

"Because you were suppose to save him. But instead, you spent your time moping. 'Sides, place is warded to hell and back. Literally." Dean could only glare as the angel walked to Sam and produced a pen, scribbling down an address on the man's skin. When he was done, he turned to Dean.

"You better get moving. It's at least a two hour drive." At first, none of them move, but then Sam was saying something, tugging on Dean as they left. Dean obliged, following down the hall towards the exit, but someone was calling his name from behind him.

Dean turned to see Gabriel in the corridor, his arms crossed. Dean had never seen him look both so human and so worried at once. 

"Go get 'im, tiger," he said, before vanishing from sight all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the topic of Valefor, he is actually a real demon from Hebrew mythology. He is know as one of the many Dukes of hell and is more a king to thieves. I thought he'd be fitting since he wants to steal secrets from an ex-angel!  
> Also, Gabe to the rescue! I might write a spin off with Sabriel when this is all said and done.  
> Another also, this is going to turn explicit in the next chapter, I hope. And I think that'll be where it ends too. Stick with me just a little longer!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The daring rescue.

The knife cutting into Castiel's flesh felt as if fire was running up his side, searing the soft skin and tissue of his body. Each cell screamed as crimson blood oozed from the wound, joining the many trickles already painting his skin. Castiel allowed a hiss to escape his lips, filling the calm of the house with the noise. 

"Where are the tablets, Castiel?" Valefor's stark tone came, drowning out the ex-angel's noises of protest. A long, serrated knife was in his clutch, his favored torture device. Second to the angel blade, of course. The demon preferred the irony of it. 

Castiel remained quiet as he turned his head to face one of the entry ways. The demon tutted, carving another line, this time into the man neck. Another cry tore its way from Castiel's throat as more blood dripped hotly down his body. 

The man tried to clear his mind, tried to take himself away from the bland home, away from the smirking creature, away from the pain. What found him instead of emptiness was the soft caresses of large, calloused hands and the sound of a low voice humming. His memories flitted to the day he received his tattoo, the day Dean had touched him so gently, had whispered encouraging words, provided small comforts to his aching skin.

Words filled his ears as he slowly fell away from the hazy memories, his brain unable to translate them with his current distraction. "The tablets, Castiel," Valefor supplied, his tone hopeful. Castiel's mumbled words had, for a moment, given the demon the idea that his torture methods were working, but his expression fell as the Winchester's name fell easily from his subjects lips.

"Dean," he whispered, as if speaking to a sleeping lover. "Dean."

A loud clang snapped Castiel out of his trance, pulling his attention up to the demon who had kicked over a coffee table close by. The anger rolled off him in waves as he turned back, his face pinched.

"You will tell me what I want, even if I have to pry it out of you," The demon stalked towards him, once again brandishing the angel blade. This time, as cool metal cut across his stomach, the stinging pain became a throb, even more blood gushing from his abdomen. Castiel cried out, no longer able to hide his pain. 

A smirk danced across the demon's face at the display, but slowly faded as Castiel's screams subsided. Muffled noises of a struggle came from the front of the house. Valefor turned and stepped away from the man. He was able to walk two steps towards the entryway before someone busted the door open. 

Dean stumbled slightly into the room as the remnants of the door came crashing in around him. At first, all he registered was the suited man poised with a knife. His eyes locked with the creature's as they flashed to black, causing Dean to immediately label it as an enemy. 

"Dean!" A voice called. It was soft, broken around the edges, but it was relieved. The hunter turned his gaze around the room to see Castiel, strapped to a chair and covered in his own blood. His shirt had long been torn away and now sat on the floor, crusted and hard with blood, leaving his chest exposed. From where he was standing, he could see the many lacerations to his once smooth skin. 

"You bastard," he breathed, glaring at the demon whom merely smiled. 

"You must be this 'Dean Winchester' I've been hearing all about. Stirred up hell like an anthill, oh righteous man," he taunted. His movements were measured as he stalked Dean like a predatory cat. Dean didn't falter as he turned, keeping an eye on both the demon as Cas.

They stared off for a few moments more before they pounced, scrambling for purchase against one another. Both men were strong in body, but the demon was as mundane as they come. The hunter was able to finish him off before the demon was even able to scratch his skin, it's burnt out vessel crumpling to the floor. 

The moment Dean's hand where free, he was by Castiel's side, cutting away the ropes that held him. As soon as he was freed, Castiel practically fell into Dean's arms, his body far too exhausted, especially with no bounds to keep him up right. 

Dean took it in stride, shifting Castiel into his hold, shushing the few whines he cried. "Hey, hey Cas, it's ok, just bear with me ok?"

He took a moment to look over the wounds, the worst cutting deep into the visceral layers of the man's body. Blood coated him, both dried and fresh, marring the once smooth, pale skin. Dean breathed for a moment before he lifted Cas easily into his arms. He wasn't sure if it was the result of the torture or Castiel's own poor eating habits that caused him be so light, but the hunter swore he'd buy him twenty cheeseburgers if he pulled through. 

He had started to pull Cas into a fireman's carry to help him out to the car. Yet, the moment Dean hitched the ex-angel over his shoulder, Castiel gave out a low of pain, shifting in discomfort with what little strength he had. Dean immediately set the man carefully down, distressing over what to do. 

For a moment, Dean considered getting Sam to help. The younger Winchester was much taller and could most likely able carry the incapacitated man. Another thought seized his attention though, of not leaving Castiel alone again. After all, it was Dean's agreement and stubbornness that had allowed the man to be alone. He should've known better. He should've known damn well not to leave an ex-angel alone for even two seconds. 

No, he had to get Castiel out one way or another. 

Dean shifted the body under his arms carefully, trying not to rouse another sound of pain from Castiel. He gently pulled Cas up to his chest in a bridal carry before he started walking out of the makeshift interrogation room. 

"Sam?" he called, wary of anything else that may be lurking around the corner. He heard his name from near the front of the house in Sam's panicked tone. "I'm fine," he replied with a shout, walking quickly towards the sound of his brother's voice. "I've got Cas," he stated as he found Sam, his button up spotted with blood.

"Hey, that's great," Sam said, his voice on the edge of exasperated. "Can we leave now? There's no telling how many more of these creeps are around…" Dean merely nodded, his face serious as he walked with Castiel out the door and to the Impala. 

Another small thought wormed it's way into Dean's head as he debated driving or letting Sam drive. Yet, the mere thought of leaving Castiel alone, event drive, made him agitated. 

"Sam," he called, turning to his brother. "Open the door for me. And put the seat down so I can get in the back." Sam turned to his brother for a moment, confusion crossing his features before he caught his brother's eyes. Dean had a look of determination in his eyes that Sam hadn't seen in years, not since their dad had died. Not since they were looking for a way to stop his crossroads deal. Not since Castiel had been possessed by millions of souls. 

There was a moment of pause before Sam walked over, pulling the door open and the passenger seat down. He stepped aside as Dean carefully maneuvered Castiel's body into the back, following in after. Sam shut the door behind them before walking back to the driver's seat, his gun raised to the dark night in fear of what might follow after. 

It took only moments before they were moving, the car flying away from the suburban area that housed the, now dead, demons. Sam gripped the wheel as he drove, listening to the occasional pained whimpers of Castiel and his brother's murmured comforts. 

He finally broke the two's exchanges when Sam asked, "Dean, he really needs a hospital." 

More silence met Sam's suggestion as Dean pondered the idea. The hospital meant questions, questions they couldn't answer. It also meant the cops would be involved, another big red flag. But not going meant possibly losing Cas which wasn't even up for debate. 

After a moment of thought Dean answered, "yeah. Yeah ok, nearest hospital, fast."

\--

When they arrived at almost midnight, the hospital eerily empty save a few cars in the parking lot. They found the well light emergency room easily and both men carefully helped injured man out of the car and back into Dean's arms. 

They rushed inside, disturbing the few people in the waiting room and the nurse at the window. "We need a doctor!" Dean called. The woman behind the counter scrambled to her feet, pressing a call button as she went. 

From that point on, everything started going too fast. There were people around him, taking Castiel from him, leading him away as he tried to reach the man. "Cas!" Dean tried to move towards the gurney they had placed him on, but there were hands holding him back, Sam and a nurse, he realized. "You can't go with him, sir. Only family and their significant others are allowed," she told him. 

Dean felt his lips move before he even realized what he was saying. "Boyfriend," he said quickly, pushing against the nurse again. He had to stop and think about that phrase for a moment. It was a phrase he had spent time thinking about, one he thought wouldn't be true, one that many people had assumed to be true. Yet, it felt so natural falling from his lips. "I'm his boyfriend," he reiterated, his gaze falling between the nurse and the doctors who were pulling Castiel away from him. 

She furrowed her brow for a moment, turning to Sam who frowned then shrugged, releasing his grip on Dean. The nurse kept her hands firm on Dean, though. "I understand sir, but we need you to wait here. There's nothing you can do short of giving us some information." Dean could only nod as she led he and Sam to a pair of chairs. 

The next two hours included questions that the brothers were asked about Castiel and his condition. Sam answered a majority of them, working the nurse like a piece of dough beneath his fingers as he explained a mugging. For a minute, she remained unconvinced, but she either believed him or had better things to do since she wandered back to the ER to talk with the doctors after a few minutes. 

They waited for what seemed like hours, fidgeting and talking softly. Sam had called Bobby to explain the situation, convincing him to fax fake information to the hospital for Cas. Dean had spent his time occasionally sipping on the over cooked coffee that Sam had brought them and gazing at the few people who filtered in and out of the room. 

After the second styrofoam cup, a doctor walked into the waiting room. The occupants all turned their heads, training their eyes on the wearing looking man in a pair of glasses. He turned down to his chart, then back up to the room. "Castiel Novak?" Dean was on his feet before Sam could even register Castiel's name. 

The doctor sighed as the two boys stood near him, both eager for word on the ex-angel. "That was some hell of a mugging," he started, flipping through the chart briefly. "Few broken ribs, severe lacerations to the torso and arms, stab wounds in the abdomen and legs, internal bleeding and bruises…" Each item on the list made Dean flinch slightly, cursing himself for not finding Castiel sooner. He had already gone through so much pain and loss, this was just too much. 

"He also suffered from severe blood loss which resulted in shock and dangerously low blood pressure." This earned a glance from all three men to Dean's shirt. The front of it had been smeared with the man's blood as he carried him out. It had dried a dark brown, effectively ruining the shirt and a constant reminder of just how bad off Castiel was in his care. 

"We almost lost him, but a few pints of transfusions and stitches put him in stable condition. The internal bleeding has all but stopped which is the best we could've hoped for. He's pulled through miraculously." Sam heard an audible sigh from his brother at that bit of information. The doctor continued, a small smirk on his lips, "almost like he has a little guardian angel."

Dean couldn't help but snort a little at that followed by Sam nudging him lightly, but not without a small smirk of his own. The doctor smiled and nodded. "We've moved him to a more permanent room for observation. He's sleeping now and if everything goes right, he should be able to go home in the morning."

"I suggest you boys go home and rest. He'll be discharged around eleven." 

There was a small stretch of silence before Dean was speaking, "ok, that's great, so can I go back and see him now?" The doctor frowned, passing a glance from Dean to Sam. "I can only allow family and significant others back."

Dean nodded his head, "yeah, you're looking at his boyfriend." Sam frowned at him, but let it go after he saw the desperation in Dean's face, instead giving the doctor an accusing stare. The man sighed, reaching up to rub between his eyes from underneath his glasses. 

"I just think it would be best if you two go home and sleep. Not only will that give you two the sleep you appear to need, but it will also allow Mr. Novak to sleep. Legally, I can't stop you, seeing as your name is on his roster, but as a medical professional, I highly suggest it."

With that, the doctor turned to head back inside the ER, leaving the two Winchester standing in the doorway to the waiting room. Sam looked over to his brother. "We can come back in the morning, Dean, I'm sure he's fi-," he said, but Dean cut him off with a frustrated tone. 

"No! I left him once and almost got him killed. I'm not leaving him alone again." Dean was shoving the Impala's keys into his brother's hands before he yanked open the door, making his way inside. 

The ER had sped up significantly since they had arrived. Nurses and doctors ran to and fro, taking care of what seemed to be early morning traffic wrecks. Dean was able to slip down the halls, undetected. He had spent much of his life as a hunter trying to fly under the radar and it worked like a charm for him now. 

He navigated the halls easily with the help of bolded signs guiding his way. His boots clicked quietly amongst the beeping of ventilators and heart monitors, a constant cacophonous background sound. It didn't take him long to find Castiel's room. Dean recognized the mop of dark hair amongst the pillows from one of the windows. He smiled, peering in on Cas' sleeping form, just relieved to know he was still alive and breathing. 

"Excuse me," a woman called, pulling Dean's gaze away from Castiel's sleeping form. She was rather short but stern looking and dressed in nurse scrubs. "Visiting hours aren't until ten." Dean turned from her to the window, then back as he worked on an excuse. 

"I, uh, I've been here for a while, i just needed a little snack," he lied smoothly, but the woman remained unyielding, even against Dean's height. "Sir, this are is for important persons and staff only, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Dean furrowed his brow, then turned back to Castiel's form. He could hear the heart monitor running as well as assorted beeps and sounds through the open door of the hospital room. It was a little disconcerting, knowing that this woman could take him away from the small, frail man asleep only feet away from him. He had to do something…

"Look," he started, turning back to the nurse, whom had yet to move even an inch. "That guy in there, he's ah, he's really important to me." Dean floundered with his words, his words barely moving the nurse who had crossed her arms at that point. The hunter sighed and ran his hand through his hair, wishing to any kind of god that his stomach would quite doing flips. 

"Cas is, well, he's really important to me. Hell, I'd readily die for him. And I can't just leave him all alone, not after all that's happened to him." Dean turned once again to the window, his eyes carefully tracing the man's strong jawline. "I'd do anything to fix all this shit. He deserves so fucking much more than me."

He inhaled sharply, trying to keep his composure, though, it was steadily leaving him with every word. "I love him," he stuttered. His chest knotted slightly as he muttered those three words, but for some reason, they were some of the easiest he had ever said. 

"I love him," he said, louder, his voice steadier. He turned and trained his eyes on the nurse, attempting to convey ever emotion into his words. "I love him and I'm not gonna leave him now or ever unless you drag me kicking and steaming out that damn door," he finished, pointing down the hall for emphasis. 

The nurse stared for a moment more, narrowing her eyes before sighing heavily. "You're lucky I get off in twenty," she told him before turning down the hallway, walking back to the ER. Dean could only let out a sigh of relief before he walked into the room. 

Cas was still there, his sleep uninterrupted as far as Dean could tell. It was strange to him to see his angel asleep. He seemed so peaceful, unlike the wind storm that was his normal disposition. Dean couldn't help but smile. It faded quickly when he noticed the bandages circling his arms and face. 

"God," he breathed, pulling up a chair to the hospital bed. He slowly sunk into the seat, running his hands over his face. "I'm so fucking sorry, Cas. This is all my fault." He bowed his body, resting his head lightly on the sheets, barely feeling the warmth of Castiel beneath the blankets. "I swear, I will never let you get hurt again."

He lifted himself once again, clearing his throat before he began to speak again in a broken tone. "I'll go anywhere you want, get you anything you'd ever need because I…" Dean's voice broke off and he tried to compose himself. "Because, damn it Cas, I love you. Ever since your feathery ass flew into that damn barn."

Dean nuzzled into the blanket lightly, trying to clear his mind of anything but the warmth beneath him when something lightly touched his hair, gently ruffling it. "I thought," came a gruff voice, more deep than normal if Dean was analyzing the situation, "we were suppose to keep information like that to ourselves." 

A small, sob-like laugh escaped Dean as he lifted his head. His eyes caught Castiel's warm, blue ones that shined despite every bandage and bruise that covered him. A small smile accompanied it which brought the hunter to notice that the five o'clock shadow had grown to more of a small beard. He couldn't help but grin.

"Yeah, well, it was important," Dean reassured him. Castiel's hand lazily trailed over Dean's short hair as he spoke once again, "must have been a crisis." Dean reached his own hand up, catching Castiel's before slowly rubbing the soft calluses with his own thick, heavy ones. 

After a moment, Dean gently brought the hands towards his lips, gently planting a kiss on Castiel's. It was an unsure movement, testing the waters with the man. Cas simply nodded, giving his silent approval. 

They stared at each other for a while, simply reveling in each other's presence, exchanging unspoken words with mere glances that said, 'I love you, too.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted to kill Valefor quickly and with no fanfare. He was an added character, and I tend to wish those to be fleeting. I hope he wasn't too upsetting.  
> Oh, and we get rather romantic when Cas gets out of the hospital next chapter, so the rating might spike up. Some fore warning there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long! This chapter got caught right in the middle of a really bad writer's block, but thanks to my lovely betas, Ringosohma and Cookies-575 (aka Savannah) I was able to pull my head out of my ass and finish it up!
> 
> Also, I told all of you this would become explicit, I warned your faces, and here it is. 
> 
> Next chapter, the plot holes get filled and everything gets tied up with a lovely little bow!

After losing Dean to the call of his maybe-boyfriend, Sam had decided to move go back to the motel and sleep if only for a few hours. Now, with six hours of sleep and plenty of coffee in his system, Sam was more than ready to collect his over zealous brother and ex-angel friend. 

By eleven, he had made it to the hospital with a cup of coffee for Dean and managed to sweet talk a nurse into telling him where Castiel's room was. He walked slowly down the hallway, hoping to any god Dean hadn't gotten himself kicked out of the hospital. He glanced at each room number as he went until he made it to 310, the one the nurse had told him. With a small sigh, Sam pushed the door open and peered into the room. 

The first thing he noticed was the soft light filtering into the room from the window, bathing everything in a soft, yellow glow. The second was Dean in a chair, his body bowed onto the hospital bed as he slept. His hand was gripping Castiel's whose body was curled to the side, pulling numerous wires and tubed taunt as he stretched to be closer to his hunter in his sleep. 

He couldn't help a small chuckle at the sight of his brother and Cas asleep together. He could only hope they would follow through on their private affection. Sam began to move into the room, observing the various machines, checking Castiel's chart, and to scour another chair, moving careful as not to wake the two. After a glance, Sam found, with a level of annoyance, that Dean had taken the only chair. With a small scoff, Sam set the coffee on the bedside table for his brother before leaving to search for another chair. 

The halls were already bustling with activity, patients and staff walking back and forth. Sam walked carefully, ghosting along until he got to the nurse station, greeting the middle aged woman at the desk. "Uh, hi," he started. The nurse raised her eyebrows to him. "Is there anyway I could get an extra chair? There's only one…"

A small smile appeared on her tired face as she placed a pen she was holding down to give Sam her full attention. "Sure, sugar. I can have one of the staffers bring it. Which room do you need it in?" Sam gave her a small, thankful smile. "310?"

For a moment, her smile remained before faltering into a frown. "You with that Dale Windover?" Her voice held a high level of disdain as she spoke, her once open nature faded into a hostile pose. Sam recognized the name she had said after a moment, one Dean tended to use when he had no other ID on him. 

"Yeah, he's, ah, he's my brother," Sam confirmed. He noticed several other nurses who had started to linger giving him tired, harrowing glances. The first woman merely shook her head. "You can just grab one out of the waiting room," she said finally, motioning down the hall. She didn't say another word as she turned back to the paper work before her. 

He started to say something else, but didn't want to push anything. From the looks of the other nurses, it was probably smart just to handle it on his own. He walked back down the hall, keeping an eye for the waiting room as he went. To Sam's luck, the waiting room was only at the end of the hall, six rooms down from Castiel's. 

Sam had only begun to manage to drag a chair out into the waiting room when a voice called from behind him. He turned, confronting a rather short, balding man (by his standards, at any rate) dressed in a button down and doctor's coat. His name tag proudly proclaimed 'Dr. Strause, ICU,' which, if Sam recalled correctly, was the name of Castiel's doctor. 

"You got what you need there?" He asked, looking pointedly down at the chair in Sam's grasp. Sam followed his gaze down to the chair, then back, a look of embarrassment on his face. "I needed an extra chair," the Winchester replied, holding up the furniture slightly. 

The doctor looked serious for a moment before chuckling softly. "None of the nurses would help you?" Sam shook his head, setting the chair down to talk. "Not since I mentioned one of your patients."

Dr. Strause raised his eyebrows significantly before a knowing look came over his face. "It wouldn't happen to be Mr. Novak, would it?" Sam nodded quickly and the doctor chuckled, "his partner had been giving us significant trouble all night. Now matter how often we send him to the waiting room, he some how still ends up in the room. This is very troubling for the nurses, you understand?"

Sam nodded again, adding a noise of understanding. "I grew up with him, if there's anything he is, it's trouble." Both men laughed softly at that before the Sam quietly asked, "how is he, though?"

A small frown found its way to the doctor's face as he spoke. "He had severe lacerations, a few broken ribs, multiple puncture wounds to the liver, and one to the left lung. He was in a mild state of shock when he arrived, but we managed to stabilize his blood pressure. Severe injuries for a mugging."

He paused for a moment as Sam's face fell slightly, though he already knew the extent of his friend's injuries, hearing them voiced was still hard. His harsh expression was met by a sigh from the doctor. "However, he's healing at an extraordinary rate. In fact, I would expect him to be released today."

"I actually brought a copy of his medical information," Sam offered, a small weight already lifting off his chest. Dr. Strause nodded, a hint of relief and a small smile in the gesture. "I would be delighted if you could help, seeing as you are the contact." Sam nodded before putting the chair quickly before the two walked down the hall in search of the correct forms for Castiel's release.

\--

Dean awoke slowly to the sounds of various beeps and the low hum of activity outside of Castiel's hospital room. It took him a moment of internal wrestling to decide to look up, almost immediately regretting the decision as the light from the window blinded him. He hissed unhappily when a small squeeze on his hand brought his attention away from the pain.

"Hello, Dean," came a gruff voice, albeit, a bit softer than he remembered. 

Dean blinked for a moment until his eyes finally adjusted to the light. He looked up the bed where he had been laying on to see Castiel, the morning light draping him with a heavenly glow, despite the bed head. Dean couldn't help but snort. 

Castiel gave him a curious look with just the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. "Dude, you look muffed," he murmurs, reaching up with his free hand to try to straighten a few of Cas' locks. "And I thought I had rough mornings."

A small chuckle escaped Castiel before a round of coughs and groans put a stop to it. Dean's face fell as Castiel let go of his hand to hold tightly to his chest. Another small groan fell from the bed ridden man before he gasped, "I don't remember laughing being so painful."

"That'll be the cracked ribs," Dean answered, his voice flat. A quiet fell over them for a moment before a loud curse from the hunter gave Castiel fright. "This is all my fault, Cas."

"Dean," Castiel said quietly, grasping once again to the man's hand. Dean lifted his face, his eyes catching the deep blue of Castiel's. "Dean, every choice I have made has led me here. While I may have been careless, I am not ashamed of any of my actions. I would gladly do it all again if it brought us together."

Dean was silent for a moment before a small laugh left his lips. "You're such a sap," he chuckled, squeezing his hand. Dean leaned over and ruffled Castiel's hair before pulling out his cell phone, briefly glimpsing Sam's message about Castiel's release paper. He couldn't help but smile as he turned to the injured man.

"Well, jailbird, you ready to fly free?"

\-- 

From the hospital, the three began the lengthy drive to Bobby's. The whole drive, Dean would send small glances back to Castiel who gladly returned them with shy smirks. Sam could only roll his eyes.

Sam and Dean switched off driving non-stop to reach Sioux falls, making it in well near midnight. The youngest Winchester led the charge in with a bag over his back, declaring loudly, "I'll take the single on the other side of the house so I don't have to hear you two professing your love all night." Dean merely shoved him inside, arguing the contrary. 

All the noise quickly drew Bobby into the foyer, a relieved smile on his face. "What do ya three idjits think yer doin'? It's the middle of the goddamn night." Dean simply laughed as he carried the other duffle inside. "Good to see you too, Bobby." 

Castiel limped in behind the two, carefully navigating inside to avoid jousting any of his injuries. He stood awkwardly in his doorway, unsure if he could come in anymore. Dean was the first to say anything to him, giving Castiel a start.

"Hey, Cas, come on. Guess we're sharing a room. You gotta take these pain meeds and I sure as hell ain't losing you to a fucking allergy after everything else." Castiel gave him a small smile before following after Dean as Bobby stared confusedly after. 

"The hell was that about?" Bobby asked, turning to Sam when he heard the bedroom door shut. "Them to finally kiss and make up?" Sam snorted, shaking his head as he turned for his own bed. "I can only hope so. The yelling was starting to get on my nerves." 

\--

Once safe behind the door of the bedroom, Dean flopped the duffle bag down onto the bed before rummaging through it, tossing a loose t-shirt to Castiel before he started to pull of his own plaid in exchange for his undershirt.

"Go ahead and get changed," Dean told him, retrieving the painkillers the doctor had prescribed before he tossed the bag to the floor. He untucked the sheets from the bed, then turned to Castiel right as he pulled the shirt on, his pants lying on the floor with only his boxers left. 

Dean poured two of the pills into his hand and thrusted them into Castiel's hand. "Wait here. Don't swallow them yet," he said, walking out of the room for a moment. Castiel sat on the bed while he heard the clatter of glasses come from the kitchen, followed by the spray of water into a cup. 

Castiel waited patiently until Dean came back, holding a glass of water out to the ex-angel as he closed the door behind him. "Take 'em just like the tylenol I gave you before, ok?" Castiel nodded, dropping them into his mouth before washing them down with the cool liquid. Dean just snorted as Cas handed the glass back.

"You gotta take two of those in the morning, too. Don't let me forget." Dean said, placing the glass on the bedside table before he pulled his pants off to reveal his own boxers. "Scoot over," he told Castiel, crawling under the covers only when the other man had moved. 

Castiel sat back against the headboard while Dean turned to face away from Castiel, pulling the comforter up to his face. The other man fidgeted, unsure whether or not to slip under the covers with Dean. Physical contact and personal space were issues that Dean held close to his heart. 

Though, what he wanted most was to touch Dean again, to hold and kiss him as they had in his hospital room. Instead, he crossed his legs, attempting get comfortable before hearing Dean speak next to him. 

"You know, you're gonna catch a cold if you don't get under the covers," he mumbled before rolling to see Castiel. The ex-angel gave him a confused glance, his brows pinched together as he spoke. "I thought personal space was a priority?"

Dean chuckled lowly as he moved closer to Castiel, giving the other a fright. "I think we're pass personal space," he replied, sitting up to kiss Castiel on the cheek. The brunette paused, following Dean back to place a quick kiss on his lips. 

The hunter merely grinned, pulling at the covers until Castiel actually crawled into the warmth of the blankets. He settled into the bed while Dean moved to his side, filling the dark of the room with silence. 

Castiel could feel the heat rolling off Dean, keeping the bed toasty as they lay. His side of the bed was cooler, though, a balance of warmth on his right, and cool on his left. It was unnerving that Dean would sleep so far away, yet he was so close.

"Dean?" He asked finally, rolling to face the man. Dean merely grunted before Castiel repeated his name, getting a gentle "what?" in return. 

"Can we...can we maybe sleep closer?"

His request was met with silence before he heard the ruffle of the sheets and felt Dean moving his pillow next to Castiel's. The brunette smiled briefly before speaking again. 

"Could we maybe kiss a bit?"

He could hear Dean laughing before a pair of strong arm were wrapped around him. He could feel Dean fumbling in the dark until Dean's lips met his. Castiel met the kiss happily, pressing eagerly into Dean.

They remained together for a few minutes, kissing softly. Castiel eventually tangled himself into Dean whom twisted readily to mesh against the brunette. A slow, lazy heat was settling itself low in his belly, pressing against his boxers and, with a small shift, on Dean. 

Dean was suddenly gone, already a good length away on the bed from Castiel. The ex-angel was sitting up on his elbows immediately, his brows knitted together in worry. 

"Dean, what's wrong? Have I don't something to offend you?" Dean just shook his head. "Then what?" Castiel demanded, the panic and worry on his face bleeding into his tone. The hunter turned down to the bed, his face a similar knit of brows. 

"This isn't a good idea, Cas," he retaliated, still refusing to look at his bedmate. Castiel snorted, bringing a rise from Dean. 

"Heaven thinks it is." 

"Since when did you listen to those assholes?"

"Since they gave me a reason to be close to you."

Dean gave pause to that, closing his mouth to bite back the retort he had concocted. Instead, he waited as Castiel drew in a shaky breath to continue. 

"Since I can feel the sensations, the want to be close to you. Since all I wanted to do was be close to you. Especially when the only thing I could do to suffer through my recent plights was you."

Another heavy silence fell around them, neither wishing to be the first to speak. However, Dean finally broke the quiet by sitting in front of Castiel, practically pulling the brunette into his lap. Castiel gasped loudly, but relaxed into the touches. 

"Cas, I get that you think this is a good thing. I can't say I haven't given it a lot of thought myself, but I do know this; none of my relationships have ever panned out well. I don't want this one to go the same way."

Castiel adjusted himself, scooting forward in between Dean's legs much to the hunter's surprise. "Do you think I'm weak and need protecting?" The anger in his voice was palpable, sending a shiver down Dean's spine. 

"You were just kidnapped, but for the most part, no," came Dean's answer, a smug tone to the reply. Castiel merely shrugged him off. "I can make my own decisions, Dean. You taught me that."

Dean felt Castiel's hands touch his face. They were clammy, but gripped him strongly as Castiel spoke. "Good things do happen, Dean."

A small laugh fell from Dean's lips while Castiel bristled underneath him, his hands pulling away. "What?" He demanded, a offended at the laughing his rather serious statement had brought on. 

"You've said that to me before," Dean informed him. "The first time we met after you pulled me out of hell." Castiel took pause, a small smile whipping away his anger. "I suppose I did."

Lips were suddenly meeting his again and Castiel happily meshed to them. They kissed for a time, hands roaming across clothed backs and chest, Dean occasionally dipping under Castiel's shirt, much to the man's excitement. 

Then, he was abandoned again, the warm touch of Dean pulling away much to his chagrin. Castiel let out a frustrated groan, but Dean didn't laugh this time. Instead, he spoke, his tone serious in nature.

"Are you sure you want this?" 

Castiel growled before lunging at Dean, re-seizing his mouth as his own. Dean made no protests, pushing into the kiss vehemently. They were suddenly a mass of needy limbs pulling desperately at what little clothing they had on. 

Dean was the first to break away to lift his shirt off before turning his attention to Castiel's. Boxers came off next as Dean rolled Castiel onto his back, leaving the brunette completely bare. Castiel was never more happy to be naked and, much to his joy, Dean wasted no time making his intentions clear. 

A hand was suddenly grasping him in places that sent sparks flying though his body, causing him to gasp in surprise. Dean could only laugh, his voice deep when he said, "You like that, Cas?" The man could only moan out his response as his hips moved up against his will. 

"Yes," Castiel groaned, pressing up against Dean's hand. The hunter replied by leaning down and pressing a kiss to Castiel's lips. The ex-angel took it in stride, taking Dean in happily. Castiel could feel the ferocity in the kiss as Dean pressed against Castiel possessively. 

The movements on his member continued, pulling Castiel into a dizzying spiral of pleasure. For centuries, he had watched humans mate and make love but it was all from afar. It had seem like such a trivial action, a sin in the human's jumbled words of his father. He had thought it was nothing more than to pass the time. 

But, in that moment, Castiel understood it was much more. The pleasure that bled into him, the intimacy that coursed between them. He knew now, and he wanted as much as Dean had to offer him. 

Dean moved his hand up and down Castiel's erection, slowly spreading what pre-cum had leaked out around as he went. He could't help but stare at Castiel; beautiful, intimidating, once whirlwind of power Castiel. And what he lacked in power, he made up for with small whines and movements that drove Dean wild. 

"Shit Cas," he mumbled, releasing all too soon as he stumbled across the room. Castiel let out a huff as he sat up, his eyes needy as they watched Dean walk away. 

The man in question was digging around in his duffle bag, cursing a little before he pulled out a small tube and two packages. He stumbled back to his bed, a small grin on his face as he handed Castiel the items. The ex-angel stared at them, confusion on his face. Dean merely smirked before he took the bottle back.

"It's, uh, only if you want to. It's actually lady's lube, but, it's ah, all I have," Dean supplied, a slight blush creeping over his freckled cheeks. Castiel tilted his head slightly. "Anything Dean. I'm not a stranger to the idea of sex, whether it be anally or vaginally." 

Dean jumped slightly at the man's correct terminology of such a sensitive topic before settling back into his grin, though, a light tinge of embarrassment hung to him. "Alright," he said, moving slowly towards Castiel. "Yeah, alright." 

Castiel laid back on the bed, sure to spread his legs as Dean settled between them, another unsure glance tossed his way. Castiel merely nodded before Dean set to work, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his hands. He hadn't done any experimenting since his early twenties, but that had been forever ago and with someone he left before the witching hour. 

This was different. This was Castiel, a fallen angel turned human. He had known this man, or being, for less than years, yet, he had never felt more attached to anyone, Sam aside. He didn't want to fuck things up, not with Cas. 

So, with yet another encouraging whine from Castiel, Dean slicked his hand with lube and slowly pressed against the man's opening, careful not to be rough as he pushed in. Castiel let out a small grunt, unsure how he should feel about the invading finger. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't quite pleasurable. 

Dean noticed Castiel's face and chuckled, pushing in to his second knuckle. "You gotta relax, Cas. Otherwise, it's not gonna be as good and that's the last thing I want." Castiel unscrunched his face, but still unconvinced in Dean's promise. 

Then, Dean crooked his finger ever so slightly. The hunter's words rung true as a small, pleasurable sensation ran through him. It wasn't as good as having his erection touched, but it was enough to draw a pleased gasp from Castiel. Dean smiled triumphantly, crooking in again before pushing forward.

Slowly, Dean was able to sink his finger in to the knuckle, a pleased sigh coming out of Castiel. A small kiss was placed on his navel before Dean slowly retracted, moving his finger in and out. Castiel couldn't help the small noises that escaped him. The pressure was both intrusive and amazing all at once, a dangerous mix of feelings that danced on his psyche. 

A small smirk appeared on Dean's face at Castiel's moans and gasps. It made him feel on top of his game to have Cas squirming underneath him. It had been a while since he had any real action, especially with a man. 

"Ready for another?" Dean asked, his other hand slowly running up Castiel's hip to rest just above his groin. The brunette could only nod as Dean dripped more of the lube onto his fingers before gently inserting the second finger. Castiel let out a small, distressed whine, the burn increasing slightly. Dean froze, staring with wide eyes at the man beneath him. Castiel could only shake his head.

"Don't stop," he demanded. The feeling was somewhat unpleasant, but the small sparks he had felt earlier were the end goal as well as Dean's pleasure. Castiel wanted the intimacy, to be close to Dean. He needed to feel the warmth of Dean's skin against his, hear him cry out. 

The sudden bottoming out of Dean's finger slammed Castiel back to the future with a loud gasp. Again, Dean froze, even pulling his hand away, as Castiel took in large gulps of air, willing his body to relax against the invader. 

"Cas?" Dean asked after a beat. The ex-angel could only reach up and grip Dean's free hand, bringing it back against his hip. Dean spoke his name once more and Castiel ground his body down, finally feeling comfortable with the intrusion. 

Dean quickly took the hint, gently moving in and out as Castiel bore down on his hand. The sparks returned with each inward movement, sending shivers up Castiel's spine. Dean maneuvered his fingers ever so, scissoring in and out as Castiel gave out small mewls and whines. 

Small kisses were Dean's reward and he stretched out the breathless man above beneath him. Cas kissed any part of his face that he could reach; his forehead, lips, chin, even the top of his head. Dean slowly ran his hand up to pull gently at Castiel's hair, effectively releasing his lover's lips from his skin. 

Castiel whined as Dean removed his fingers, satisfied at the amount of stretching he had given. He sat back up between Castiel's legs, enjoying the view of the wrecked man beneath him. The man's dark hair was sticking up in all directions with a light red tint on his cheeks. His ribcage practically danced with deep breaths as he stared up at Dean with half-lidded crystal blues.

Still, Dean had to give pause as he stroked Castiel's hip.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his brows pulled together. Castiel gave a deep huff, his annoyance rippling through his body. Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, alright."

Dean fished through the covers frantically, producing the condom he had brought over earlier. Castiel simply stared at it, unimpressed. A small laugh rose from Dean as he ripped it open and gently rolled it over his cock. He tried to suppress the small moan of pleasure that cropped up, much to Castiel's chagrin. 

"No!" he protested, moving to sit up. Dean laughed, finally finished rolling before pushing Cas back onto the bed. "Look, if we're doing this, we're doing it right. And no offense, but even with no angel mojo, I don't want to be getting any celestial STDs." 

"I am in no way afflicted!" Castiel practically shrieked, pulling a smiled grimace from Dean. "I know you're not, Cas, I'm messing with you." The brunette settled down slightly as Dean poured a good amount of lube onto himself before he settled between his legs, lining up with his entrance, pausing for a beat to make sure his partner was ready. 

"Dean," Castiel murmured breathlessly, shoving almost every inhibition in Dean's mind to the side. He gently pushed in, Castiel's warm heat accepting him in to the head before he paused, his own labored breathing mixing with Castiel's. 

"Move," the brunette demanded as he pushed his hips back towards Dean, gaining a few centimeters of his lover's member. Dean let out a low groan, digging his fingers into Cas' skin. "Shit," he mumbled, "You gotta wait unless you want this to end real soon."

Castiel let out a huff, stilling as much as he physically could while Dean took his time. After a few beats, Dean pushed again, gently nudging the spot in Castiel that shot stars in his vision. Small gasps escaped him as Dean made little by little progress, edged on by Castiel's groans and vice like grip on his arm. 

"Shit," Dean reiterated as he finally bottomed out, his stomach taunt with Castiel's erection. The brunette whined, willing his body to adjust. It was much more than Dean's fingers, that was no contest. Yet, it gave him a feeling of satisfaction and pleasure that was far more sinful than he had ever wanted to feel. He found himself enjoying it more because of that fact. 

"I'm gonna move now," Dean told him, more of a question than a statement. "Please do," Castiel responded. With his go ahead, Dean pulled out ever so slightly, not even getting half way out, before he pushed in again. He faltered on the out stroke, another curse falling from his lips. 

Castiel felt Dean's erection fall from his body, drawing an irritated scoff from his lips. He heard Dean laugh quietly before his hips were lifted and something soft shoved under him, angling him up higher. 

"Much better," he heard Dean mumble before he was back to filling Castiel to the brim, pleasure thrumming with the slight discomfort. Dean pulled out again, a little faster and further than before, pulling a gasp and groan from the brunette's lips. 

Soon, they were groaning and thrusting against each other as desperate noises and aborted movements were exchanged. Confessions of love and devotion were whispered in the heat of the moment, the truth easily given in their passion. The feel of Dean inside of Castiel wasn't completely pleasurable and not completely painful. It was an odd mixture that still left Castiel's own cock aching and hard. 

Dean was suddenly hunch over Cas, their lips crashing together as the hunter adjusted his rhythm. His hands came up to run through Castiel's dark locks, tugging ever so gently to draw a moan from him. Then, Dean pulled away, tugging harder on Castiel's hair before he was baring his neck.

There was a pause in his thrusting as Dean began to suckle on the skin of Castiel's neck, but he was quickly back to speed, his hands diverging to grip the sheets as he bit and kissed. Castiel couldn't help the moans that escaped him. It was beyond good, while slightly painful, and fueled his already raging erection. 

He felt Dean bite a few more times before pulling away to examine the mark he knew had to be there. A satisfied grunt came from Dean before he was kissing Castiel's lips again, working to open his mouth before their tongues were practically fighting each other. 

After a few minutes of thrusting and desperate kisses, Dean's movements sped up, his body bowed over his lover's and his rhythm faltering as he went. Dean's lips pulled away as he let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing as far as he could into Castiel, pulling a whine from the brunette. 

Dean practically fell onto Cas as his afterglow pulled him into a slight lull. He could feel the body beneath him fidget with small whines accompanying them. Dean couldn't' help but chuckle at the hardness stabbing into his stomach. "What, my awesome cock couldn't finish you off?"

A groan was all he got in return, prompting him to kiss the man quickly before pulling out. Castiel sighed with the loss as Dean pulled off the condom, tying it and tossing it off to the side before he was staring at the man's member. He paused before reaching over, taking Castiel into his hand.

Castiel gasped and flung his head back onto the pillow as he groaned loudly. Sparks flew through out his body as Dean worked his hand slowly up his erection. His moans were cut short as Dean kissed him, practically sucking his breath away with the kiss. 

Dean pumped away, gently biting at Castiel's lower lip before the man was arching his back as he came as well, painting both of their bellies with white streaks of cum. He fell limply onto the bed, his breathing heavy as he relaxed. He could hear Dean laughing and the bed shift before something soft was wiping his fluid from his body. 

A quick peek found Dean cleaning him with a discarded shirt before tossing it away as carelessly as the condom before laying back down. He quickly gathered Castiel against him, who groaned in protest, but settled against Dean's warm chest. 

"I didn't take you as one to cuddle post-coital," Castiel mumbled, his mind already fogging over with sleep. Dean merely laughed as his arms wrapped around him, pulling him in closer against his body. "Don't' spoil it."

And for the first time since falling, Castiel slept soundly.


End file.
